The Third Faction
by TheMaster4444
Summary: Zelretch is bored. So he punts his apprentice and her boyfriend to another dimension to participate in that place's 'really big Holy Grail War'. Now with strange Black Command Seals on Shirou's hand and their old friend Saber by their side, Rin and Shirou must use all their skill to win the Great Holy Grail War and go home. It's 7 vs. 7 vs. 2 as the Third Faction enters the fray.
1. Chapter 1

**A massive thank you to my amazing beta Draconic! He has a wonderful collection of Nasuverse writings himself so go over and check them out after you're finished here.**

* * *

 _There are two types of people in the world._

 _Those who have the Second Magic and can travel through the infinite dimensions (frequently referred to as myself)… and those who lack such abilities and sometimes find themselves—whether cognizant of it or not—subject to the whims of the first category (most often referred to as everyone else)._

 _Now, the thing to understand about a person who possesses the Second Magic, and a possibly infinite lifespan—one of the few things I still don't know, because I've never felt the need to test it—is that at a certain point, one realizes that they've seen… well, everything there is to see. Or has come very close to doing so._

 _And sometimes… well…_

 _I get dreadfully, intolerably bored._

* * *

 _ **FATEFATEFATEFATEFATEFATE**_

In a modest apartment in London, Rin Tohsaka happily hummed as she put the finishing touches on dinner. Though breakfast was typically one of her boyfriend's responsibilities in the relationship since waking up in the morning was something of an anti-talent of hers, other meals were typically fair game. Today was her turn. It was also the anniversary of his adoption by Kiritsugu Emiya, which, since he didn't remember his actual birthday, she had decided to celebrate with him. As such, there was no way she was letting him work for her this evening… outside of certain… specific activities, of course. She shook a few indecent thoughts from her head. She still needed to focus on the soup pot or she might ruin this particular dish, and then it would just be a weapon. Like at that restaurant at Mount Miyama.

Regardless of what day it was, Shirou had protested, of course. Apparently, he thought he was going to be cooking every night this week, and had supposedly wanted to make tuna steaks, but she'd eventually gotten him to concede and let her give it a shot. She'd never actually made tuna steaks before, but she was more than confident in her cooking ability and was more than eager to give it a go.

Naturally, they turned out perfectly, though she suspected that one was a little overcooked near the edge, so she made a mental note to be more careful while grilling them next time. And speaking of time, she still figured she could churn out another dish before Shirou got suspicious about what was taking her so long, so she'd decided to use what was left of the tofu. Given Shirou's nature to be a self-sacrificing idiot, she supposed she should have been grateful he'd agreed to leave the apartment at all until she called him.

Although she did have a sneaking suspicion that he might have just been using this as a test of whether she'd actually figured out how to use her cell phone.

Shows what he knew. She'd only misdialed a drunken pub-crawler once that month… and a barber shop… and some old woman speaking Mandarin… and by some weird coincidence Ayako Mitsuzuri's dorm room in Mifune where she was going to university, that was a nice, if awkward, conversation— _but none of that mattered!_

After all, the familiars she'd sent to spy on Luvia had informed her the Finnish bitch had accidentally called two electronics stores, the United States' Mexican Embassy, and a sex line. Ha! Sex lines were totally worth six drunks.

Her good mood soured a moment as she felt a brief pang of homesickness. She missed her old landline. At least that one made sense and never stopped working for some arbitrary reason… what the hell did it mean by 'out of batteries?' She might not be a genius, but she knew what a battery looked like, and that cell phone didn't even have anything to open up as far as she could tell.

Oh, who cared, her side dish was almost finished and then she'd call Shirou back. Not to mention, accident it might have been, but she'd still figured out that she could just press '1' and it'd call Shirou automatically. The phone called it 'quick dial' or something like that. No, it was 'speed dial.' See, she could remember things about technology.

With a new spring in her step, Rin scooped two bowls of Mapo Tofu out of the pot and set them down on the dining table. She looked over the array of dishes she'd prepared with a satisfied smirk. Even Shirou would have to commend her culinary skills when it came to cuisine from their homeland. At least that damn priest was good for something, even if it was introducing her to a dish. And she did have a particular talent for making spicy food, after all.

She could certainly do it better than the maniac running that restaurant.

She thought about her father's murderer screaming in hell and her grin expanded into a smile of blissful serenity. Oh, what a lovely day.

A series of three knocks sounded from the door.

Rin sighed, her head shaking bemusedly as she made her way to the door. If Shirou hadn't been able to keep away from the house like he'd promised, at least he had the decency not to come barging in with his key.

Still, she was about to share a warm meal with the man she loved while imagining the humiliating desolation of her enemies. How could anything spoil her good mood?

She opened the door with a smile. "Honestly Shirou, I am perfectly capable of cooking a simple—"

"Apprentice, we have a problem."

Rin's mouth slammed shut, her eyes wide at the sight before her.

Shirou was not at the door. Instead, there was a being who, as far as most people in the world could tell, was only a haggard old man.

Rin knew better.

Before her was Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg. The Wizard Marshall. The Old Man of the Jewels. The Wizard of the Second True Magic. The Kaleidoscope.

Her insane teacher who never did anything normal because it was _uninspired_.

And instead of appearing in her home in a flash of light, he had knocked on her door and waited for her to open it.

Rin immediately stepped aside. "Come in, master."

Zelretch nodded and did just that. The Dead Apostle Ancestor wadded over to the fully set dining room table and plopped himself down into a seat. The dark look in his eyes momentarily lifted as he idly smelled the food spread out before him. "Hmm, not bad. I hope you don't mind that I bought Burger King on the way over."

He raised a paper bag that seemed to appear out of nowhere and started gobbling down the contents. "Ah yes, chicken fries. Always a delight."

Rin silently moved before her teacher. "Master, what's wrong?"

Zelretch immediately stopped gorging himself and readopted his grave expression. "Ah yes, that. Well, my dear apprentice, there is a cataclysm afoot. A danger that, if not stopped, could spell the utter annihilation of all life in the world, nay, perhaps the multiverse."

Rin gulped, her hands gripping the back of her chair until her knuckles turned white. What catastrophe could possibly make Zelretch behave so solemnly? Had Alaya lost control of the Counter Force? Had Gaia finally decided to wipe out humanity? Was some ancient collective of demons possessing the long dead body of one of the greatest mages to ever practice the art about to complete a ritual more than a thousand years in the making that would erase all existence?!

Okay, that last one was a bit out there, but what could possibly be so serious as to—

"I'm bored."

Rin plummeted to the floor in shock. Slowly, she recollected herself and stumbled back to her feet using her chair for support. "Come again, master?"

Zelretch took a pensive bite out of another chicken fry.

"I'm terribly bored, my dear apprentice.  
When one is as old as I, one reaches  
A point at which one feels that they've seen all  
That can be seen. Been around for too much.  
I've bore witness to so many events,  
Acquired so very many mysteries  
That I now often feel as though there is  
Nothing left that can bring forth new wonders.  
I've arrived at this dread point once again.  
I entreat thine aid that I might stay sane."

He paused for a moment before scowling and taking another bite of fast food. "Good God, not even speaking in Iambic Pentameter helps!

"Though I'll admit that verse was improvised  
And as such, it was rather shoddy work.  
Hmm… it seems that this is harder to stop  
Than I had at first anticipated…  
It doesn't help that the part about my  
Sanity is also inaccurate."

"Well…madness comes in many forms, Master," Rin said uncertainly.

"That was ten syllables, Miss Tohsaka,  
You aren't helping me cease this nonsense!  
If this progresses, I'll need recompense.  
It's a waste of time, and worse yet, it's a  
Mere distraction from the real narrative.  
Don't think there won't be consequences if  
I keep going like this for much longer.  
It's getting rather exhausting, really.  
Can you please just help me stop!"

"I'm sorry…"

"Blast it! Just stop finishing the couplets!"

"It wasn't intentional!" Rin squeaked.

Zelretch sighed. "Thank you, apprentice. Much better. But the problem remains. I am dreadfully, cripplingly bored."

Rin let her face fall into her palm. If she was dealing with literally anyone else, she would have torn them apart for getting her so worked up for nothing. But Zelretch was her teacher, the teacher of her ancestors, and a figure of legend for magi. He had instructed the Three Founding Families in the design and construction of the Holy Grail War. He had saved the entire world multiple times!

Also, he had come up with that on the spot?! She repeated his verses over in her head just to confirm that it really was Iambic Pentameter. It was.

To be his student was an honor beyond compare. Even if she had to put up with his eccentricities. And Luvia.

"This is truly a state of affairs that I cannot abide," he continued. "Perhaps it would have been best had I stayed on the world's other side… Oh, still rhyming…"

"I am… very sorry, master" she spoke diplomatically. "But… look… I'm really not sure how I can help remedy this."

Zelretch's mouth shot up into a smile Rin was much more accustomed to seeing. He grinned as a spark that spoke of insanity glinted behind the genius' eyes.

"Ah, but my dear apprentice, I did, in fact, come here with a purpose. There is a very simple way for you to help your beloved master. You won the Holy Grail War, did you not?"

Rin hesitantly nodded. While she had technically been the last Master standing, she wouldn't really say she'd won the war. Without Shirou to handle Gilgamesh, she doubted she could have done anything that fateful night at Ryuudou Temple.

"Well… I… survived, I suppose."

"That you did! Now, here is what I propose: There's a very exciting one taking place on a much larger scale that I've found taking place at the same time as yours did, though in an alternate reality. Now, I've seen how it plays out, and it is a rather dull affair, truth be told, and that is just unacceptable today. Therefore, I'd like to send you to participate in it. By my estimation, that should add a little spice, if you will. I'm sure you'll do fine. Your significant other who you don't want anyone to know has a Reality Marble has already agreed to it."

"Wait, _what?!_ "

Zelretch gave her a good natured, if mischievous smile that she really, really did not like.

"Have fun! Don't forget to be cautious. Tread lightly and all that. Good luck!"

Rin's eyes widened. "Wait, hold on! _What are you_ —"

And then her master snapped his fingers and she disappeared in a flash of light.

* * *

 _ **FATEFATEFATEFATEFATEFATE**_

Shirou knelt down and examined the summoning sigil. It had been drawn in blood across an artificially flattened boulder on the grassy hill he'd landed on when he'd arrived. The freshly slaughtered… thing… the blood had come from—from his approximation, it was some sort of phantasmal beast with the body of a cow and the head of a gigantic rat—was laying in the grass a few meters away. If memory served, the complex mystical circle seemed identical to the one he'd called forth Saber from… or… what he'd assumed was what he'd summoned her from. He'd found the intricate carving in his shed floor well after the fact when he was packing up to move to London. When he had left Fuyuki for the Clock Tower with Rin, he wasn't sure he'd ever see another like it.

He sighed. He'd done his best to keep away from the apartment like Rin had asked of him, but after a while, he'd just…drifted back to the building's lobby. He'd been so determined to keep his promise that he'd started up a conversation with a passing old man.

And then that old man had inexplicably told him people were in danger from another Holy Grail War and he hadn't been able to stop himself from asking what he could do to help. The man had just smiled deviously and snapped his fingers.

The next moment, Shirou was standing on a hill in the middle of nowhere. Which probably should have been more disturbing, but he pretty much did the same thing whenever he used his Reality Marble. His mental landscape had changed ever so slightly with the state of his life, but it would always be a forge. Actually, the lack of endless swords made this place rather picturesque.

Another flash of light drew his attention to his side, and he shielded his eyes from the glare. When he could see again, he found Rin with her eyes wide and looking like someone just told her she'd have to figure out how to work a new TV in an hour or become Luvia's maid. Overall, about as flustered as she could possibly look.

"—talking about, Master! What did you—" Rin stopped talking and glanced at her surroundings. Her gaze landed on him and her eyes narrowed into a glare. "Oh…"

Shirou gave her a small wave, cringing at the thought of the verbal beatdown he could see coming his way.

Rin growled and stomped over to him. "Shirou, where are we?"

The fledgling Hero of Justice shrugged. "I don't know. I was…talking to some old man and he suddenly brought up the topic of another Holy Grail War. Then he snapped his fingers and… I found myself here. I know… you probably don't believe me."

Rin's whole body shook with rage. "Shirou. That old man was Zelretch."

Shirou raised an eyebrow. "Your teacher?"

"Uh huh," Rin growled with a nod, her eye twitching dangerously as she struggled to keep a straight face. "My teacher. And the sorcerer of the Second Magic. Meaning he could have literally sent us anywhere, at any point in time."

"…You don't say?"

"Yep. Now, would you please explain to me what in the _hell_ you were thinking when you agreed to _FIGHT THIS WAR FOR HIM?!_ "

Shirou raised his arms in an attempt to defend himself as Rin started slapping him repeatedly. "I didn't know who he was! All he said was that another war was going on and innocent people were in danger."

He said that like it explained everything. She knew that in his mind, it really did.

He wasn't a fool anymore. His conflict with Archer had showed him that his ideals were flawed. To follow them expecting the salvation of all was foolish and dangerous. Still, there was something beautiful about them, and just because they were unachievable didn't mean they weren't worth striving for.

"Look, when I asked what I could do to help, do you really think I was expecting to be teleported to another world on the spot?" he complained.

Rin stopped smacking him and took a deep breath. He had a point. He was probably almost as annoyed as she was and was just doing a better job of hiding it at the moment.

"Ugh! Fine! I guess it isn't really your fault. When that old fox sets his mind to something there isn't much that people like us can do. Still, please be a little more careful. We barely got out of the last war alive. Pulling a repeat performance isn't going to be easy."

A spark of prismatic light flickered in front of them and almost instantly seemed to materialize into the form of a letter, which hung in the air in front of them practically begging them to open it. Rin's name was stamped on it in elegant cursive.

The Tohsaka heiress snatched up the page and tore the envelope open. Her face paled when she looked at the message within. Shirou read the letter over her shoulder.

 _My Dear Apprentice,_

 _Thank you for agreeing to help relieve me of my boredom. Your beloved master is eternally grateful from the bottom of his heart._

 _Now then, you're in another world. Some people nearby are about to hold that exciting Holy Grail War I mentioned. It will be taking place in the Romanian countryside (which is where you are, no need to thank me) near the town of Trifas (which you're not anywhere near). You'll need to find a way to get there on your own. Don't forget to ask for directions. What? I've taken you almost 2½_ _thousand_ _kilometers (and a day-and-a-half of travel time in a cramped train compartment) in less time than it took the kitchen at Burger King to fry up my chicken fries. What more would you demand of this poor old man?_

 _I've left you in the immediate vicinity of Sighișoara, a town_ _almost_ _completely unrelated to the Grail War except for a shady man lurking in a church, but such things seem to be the norm in Grail Wars these days. Anyway, the city should already be visible. No sense in forcing you to make your way there on your own dime (no need to thank me for this either, your funds over on this side are limited enough already without forcing you to spend more of them)._

 _You may be wondering why I would take you to Romania but not the place you need to go. Let me answer that question with two of my own: Isn't the town just lovely? Quaint, but charming, don't you think?_

 _I've set up the summoning circle and tampered with the Grail itself to ensure you'll have Command Seals as soon as you complete the chant. The boy will get something a little more interesting, but I am forty-three percent sure there will be no negative side effects (as long as he doesn't use all of them, which is something he must not do under any circumstances! That would be_ _hysterically_ _unwise, so keep an eye on him!)._

 _I have enclosed the modified summoning incantation you'll need. And yes, the color is nonnegotiable._

 _Have fun!_

 _K.Z.S._

 _ **Postscript**_ _: If don't think you are up to the task, just say so, and no matter where you are, I will hear you and bring the both of you back (no matter how much the idiot complains). Besides, I'm certain that Ms. Edelfelt would love to give this a shot._

 _ **Post Postscript**_ _: I finished my chicken fries and helped myself to one of your tuna steaks—it was superb, by the way—so I'm going to start on your tofu. I'll admit, I've been skittish in the past about trying this particular variety, but I'm sure that if nothing else, the new experience will at least provide a reprieve from the usual monotony of life. I'm sure you won't mind._

 _ **Post Post Postscript**_ _: Be sure to check out Sighișoara's clock tower. It's of no significance to mages whatsoever, but I've heard it's lovely this time of year._

The magic circuits in Rin's arm lit up all at once and the letter burst into flames.

Shirou took a tentative step back. "Uh, Tohsaka? Are you alright?"

Rin shook with rage. She'd gained a marginally better degree of control over her temper as they grew up, but…

She was still Tohsaka.

She took a deep breath. "Fine. Just, fine, Shirou. We're just stuck fighting in _another_ Holy Grail War, in another world no less. We have no money, no resources, no idea who the other masters are. And, oh yeah, according to this, Master Zelretch has done something to you that has a fifty-seven percent chance of killing you!"

"Well, I mean, he never explicitly said that."

"Did you somehow miss the glaringly heavy implications of 'must not use all of them under any circumstances'?!'"

Shirou sighed.

"So… do you want to go back? It does say you just need to—"

"Like hell! I am _not_ giving Luvia a chance to make me look bad!" she turned her head aside to hide a stray tear welling in her eye. "God _damn_ him preying on my pride like this!" she sighed and then flashed him a rueful, almost sad smile. "Besides, even if I went back, you'd still stay to try and help."

Shirou bashfully rubbed the back of his head. "Well… I can't turn my back on people during a crisis like this. Besides, I'd never forgive myself if someone like Kotomine or Gilgamesh got their hands on this world's Grail and I could have helped stop them."

Rin shook her head and removed another piece of paper for the singed envelope. "Well then, I guess I should take a look at this new summoning… incantation?"

Her eyes narrowed as she examined the message. Shirou walked closer in concern. "Are you okay? Is there a problem?"

Immediately, she pressed the paper to her chest. "No! No, everything is fine! It's just…well… he said the color was nonnegotiable, didn't he?"

Shirou raised an eyebrow. "Yeah. What did he mean by that? I don't remember there being anything about colors in the chant you showed me after our war."

Rin glowered. "Nothing. Just… cover your ears while I do the ritual. Okay?" She marched towards the summoning circle without waiting for a response. "The way things are going, I wouldn't be surprised if Master rigged it so we'd get the worst Servant the Throne could possibly send us."

* * *

 _ **FATEFATEFATEFATEFATEFATE**_

 _It was peaceful when she'd returned._

 _She still had her wound from Mordred. She still did not have her scabbard. Her kingdom was still in ruins._

 _She still did not have the Holy Grail. Twice, she had it in her grasp and twice she had obliterated it with her own holy sword._

 _But… that was what had happened. This was the story of a girl who wanted to save her people. It was a tragic reality, not a fable in which everyone got what they deserved… but this was how it ended. Ultimately, she had failed. Her choices had led her to ruin. But she had done her best. There were people who were only still alive because of her… Because she and her knights had taken up arms to fight for the causes they believed in. They all had their own reasons, but they shared that common goal. She only had herself to blame for the tragic way it ended, but it was better that she tried and did her best than to have never made her attempt._

 _She hadn't been able to keep the Knights of the Round Table united, perhaps, but if not for her, who'd have brought them together? Who would defend the people of Britain from the Saxons?_

 _If not for her, who else could ever have had so much as a prayer of stopping Vortigern? Did she really think that someone else would be able to do that?_

 _She would never again entertain the suggestion that she should never have drawn the Sword of Selection. Perhaps, if she were ever to get a wish, in another time, in another life, it would be to have found common ground with Mordred before it was too late. Or perhaps for Lancelot and Guinevere's affair to have never been discovered, saving the lives of Gawain's brothers, and Lancelot's pride as a knight._

 _If she could do it all again…_

 _But that opportunity was gone. It had never been there to begin with; all just a cruel joke by whatever monster was lurking in the Grail._

 _Bedivere was beside her. She trusted him to return Excalibur to the Lady of the Lake after she was gone._

 _She leaned back against the tree, her last sunset beating down on her face._

 _She smiled. This was enough. She'd given everything she'd had. Done the best she could._

 _They had taught her that that was all anyone could do._

 _Her masters._

 _Even as she closed her eyes, she saw them. A just man devoted to his ideals and the fierce woman would keep them from consuming him._

 _As she faded away, a smile crossed her lips at the thought of them._

 _It was selfish, but she wished she could see them again._

 _One last time._

 _Something familiar called out to her. She'd heard its voice twice before. But this time was different. It felt clearer and warmer than it had previously._

 _But… it wouldn't grant her wish, would it? Was there even any point? No, those were the wrong questions. She should be asking what she had to lose if she accepted once again?_

 _There was nothing. No reason not to take this chance._

 _So she let it take her._

* * *

 _ **FATEFATEFATEFATEFATEFATE**_

Rin lowered her right hand, the dust from the ritual beginning to settle as the light faded. Three Command Seals materialized in a familiar shape on the back of her hand.

Shirou removed his hands from his ears, narrowing his eyes to try and see through the glare. And his eyes went wide. He rubbed them with the heels of his hands and looked again.

"Is that… who I think it is?"

The smoke cleared. Rin's mouth fell open. Could it be?

Kneeling before them with her head bowed was a familiar blond woman in a regal blue dress and shining silver armor.

Rin's mouth split into a massive grin. They might just have a chance after all.

The knight rose to her feet, her blue dress billowing in the breeze and a steely look in her gaze. "I ask of you, are you worthy to—Rin?" she looked around, "Shirou?"

"Saber!" Rin cheered, oblivious to the Servant's ruminations. She enveloped the King of Knights in a massive hug as tears of joy fell from her eyes. "We're saved! I can't believe it—we actually have a shot at this!"

Shirou grinned widely, and strode over to them, but dodged Rin's hand as she tried to pull him in. "I just…can't believe you're here."

Saber smiled as she returned Rin's embrace, before pulling away, and offering a gauntleted hand to Shirou, who shook it with about as much enthusiasm as could be expected of him. "I share the sentiment. After the events at the Temple, I was fairly certain I'd never see either of you again… I am very pleased to see the both of you looking so well."

"That said," she looked worriedly between the two mages. "We are… not in the same world, are we?" It wasn't a question. "From what knowledge the Grail has afforded me, we're in Romania, but that concerns me less than the fact that the both of you are here at all. This Great Holy Grail War takes place in an entirely different timeline, concurrent with when ours began. How could you possibly be involved?"

Rin sighed.

"My master, Kischur Zelretch—"

"Ah, say no more," Saber cut in. "The Grail warns of any unduly powerful individuals capable of interfering with the ritual, and he seems to be what it fears most…"

"Well, he did devise the system," Rin sighed, "It would only make sense that he'd be able to dismantle it as well. Honestly though, right now I honestly wish it _didn't_ make sense." She glanced at the red marks on her hand and her grin returned in full force. "But, with the three of us back together again, we're going to breeze through this Grail War."

Shirou gave her a skeptical look. "Don't you think that's getting a little ahead of ourselves, Tohsaka? These are still Servants we're talking about. And while my Reality Marble will definitely be an advantage, unless we're fighting Gilgamesh again it will only help so much."

Rin waved off her boyfriend, idly noting and disregarding the set of black Command Seals that had appeared on his hand. Those could be investigated later. Right now, he needed her calm and rational reassurance.

"Don't worry, Shirou. We've already been through a Grail War already, which is something none of the other Masters can claim. And with Saber by our side, we'll crush the other six Servants easily!"

Saber's smile fell away, to be replaced by a look of deep-seated concern.

"You'll not be happy to hear this…" she murmured, just loudly enough for Rin to catch her voice.

The joyous atmosphere rotted away in an instant as Rin's smile vanished. She whirled on Saber in trepidation.

"What do you mean? What's wrong?"

"There are… fourteen."

Rin suddenly felt sick.

"Fourteen what?" she asked, dreading the answer she knew was coming.

The King of Knights raised an eyebrow. "It seems that there are fourteen other Servants involved in this war, Rin. Two teams of seven with each possessing a single Servant of every class. There are two factions, Red and Black, who will each fight until only their own Masters remain…" she paled slightly, "At which point, those mages will then turn on one another to determine who will ultimately take the Grail. What a grotesque arrangement. Regardless, it seems your master has inserted us into the conflict as an independent third faction. At the very least, we've no reason to fight amongst ourselves as Shirou has no Servant. Although… I am curious about those black Command Seals. And a little concerned."

"Huh" Shirou remarked. "Guess that explains why the old man said it was 'on a much larger scale'. And the Red and Black does explain why he mentioned a color in the chant. Which one did he give us? Tohsaka? Tohsaka? Rin, are you okay?"

Rin was frozen, her eyes wild and her teeth bared furiously. For a few moments her head twitched to the side with the rhythm of a broken clock.

' _Fourteen Servants.'_

' _Two teams of seven.'_

It was her, Shirou, and Saber against two teams of seven Servants and Masters. Servants who could have any number of world annihilating powers and Noble Phantasms. Masters who had very likely been preparing for this war for years.

And best of all, they'd all share a single goal the moment they realized there were extra participants interfering in their competition. Any time that she, Shirou and Saber showed up in the middle of a conflict between other Servants, those Servants were guaranteed to put their battles on hold to eliminate the three of them.

And even if they took down one, the others on their team would surely be watching and would be able to plan around their tactics. And each time, they would have no idea what they were up against. Not until it was being used to annihilate them.

Rin threw her head back and screamed at the sky. He would hear her anywhere, would he? Well then...!

"DAMN YOU ZELRETCH! DAMN YOU AND YOUR BURGER KING CHICKEN FRIES!"

* * *

 **Author's Note: So... Originally I was going to wait until I had a backlog of chapters for this before publishing it so as to not starve people for months as my focus will be on RWBY Zero. However, the AMAZING kulamrit5625 did me the absolute honor of creating a TvTropes page for that story and now I am pretty much over the moon. And here we are.**

 **This story is going to have quite a few emotional beats in it (it would be dishonorable to the characters if it didn't) but I am going to try to go for far more humor than I usually do, as can be evidenced by the last line of this chapter.**

 **Other than that, I hope you can forgive the snail's pace updates.**

 **Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy what comes next!**

 **Go Forth and Conquer!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Oh... Okay.**

 **I'm pretty sure this is the most enthusiastic response to a first chapter I've gotten... ever.**

 **Thank you. Thank you all. I promise I will do everything in my power to make this story as amazing as I can.**

 **Beta-ed by Draconic**

* * *

Shirou Kotomine knelt as the sun shined through the church's stained glass. His hands clasped in front of him in a solemn prayer.

' _Oh lord, please grant me the strength to see my dream through to the end'_ he beseeched the father. _'For the sake of all mankind, grant me victory in this battle.'_

Semiramis had done an excellent job dealing with the other Masters of Red. The first five were in a sealed chamber below the church, docile due to her poison, but unharmed and in complete comfort. Since he was already the coordinator for the Red Faction, the other Servants would not object to the orders he gave them. All that was left before he could begin was to wait for the final master, Kairi Shishigou, to arrive and have him join the others.

There was still Ruler to consider, but with Lancer and Rider under his control, he was confident that she could be dealt with.

Sixty years he had waited for his chance to make things right. To save all of mankind. He would not waste it.

He could not waste it.

And he refused to allow a single Servant to stop him from achieving his goal, no matter how powerful she might be.

' _Master,'_ Semiramis' voice rang in his mind. _'It seems that someone is approaching the church. He has Command Seals on his right hand.'_

Shirou smiled. _'That would be Shishigou. Strange, he's early.'_

' _I wouldn't be so sure, Master. This one is far more handsome than the photographs you showed me. None of those unsightly scars.'_

That caused Shirou to perk an eyebrow. If it wasn't Shishigou, that didn't exactly leave him with many clues as to who else it could be. He had all of the other Masters of Red captive in the antechamber, and no Master of Black would be foolish enough to walk straight up to the church in broad daylight.

Could Shishigou have been ambushed by another mage who wanted in on the War? Was it possible that his Command Seals had been stolen from him? Well… yes, it was possible, but that didn't mean it was likely. The man had a fearsome reputation as a mercenary and as a necromancer, and from what intel Shirou had gathered, they were both well earned. Very few magi would be brave enough to try to kill him and fewer still would have the capacity to succeed.

What kind of ruthless killer could possibly have taken his Seals?

The doors to the chapel opened with a creak. Shirou heard soft footsteps slowly pad towards him. Whoever was approaching him was breathing evenly and not wasting any movement. Truly the mark of an expert assassin, or at the very least, a trained warrior.

Of course, that didn't rule out the possibility that this was just a very lucky individual who was walking down the central isle carpet without any ill intent. Both were viable possibilities.

' _Should I eliminate him, Master?'_ Semiramis inquired, her smirk present in her voice.

Shirou thought it over for a moment, but in the end, there were too many variables. While he doubted this mage could pose a threat to him in combat, he would do well to gain some perspective before he resorted to violence, lest their death have far-reaching consequences for his plans. For all he knew, the boy could merely be a decoy in Shishigou's service. It would do little good to unnecessarily antagonize the man by killing his underling when he was just being cautious. Rightfully cautious in fact. If circumstances were different, it would have been Shirou's distinct pleasure to work alongside a strategist of the necromancer's caliber.

Still, he'd waited for this battle for sixty years. He wouldn't let all his planning, all that time, go to waste over a single hasty action.

"Hello," a young voice greeted behind him. "Are you the overseer of the Holy Grail War?"

Again, the mage's words were strange. While he was technically the church appointed overseer, all parties were aware that his primary function was as a Master. The Black Faction would have no need to register with him, and the Red Faction would not likely refer to him as such. How curious.

Not wishing to be rude, Shirou rose to his feet and turned to face the mysterious arrival. He was greeted with the sight of a young Japanese man about his height, if not a bit shorter, with red hair and amber eyes. His posture was relaxed, yet poised to act. He was on guard.

Shirou's eyes glanced at the back of the boy's right hand. Just as Semiramis had said, he had Command Seals, though were black instead of the traditional red. Strange… very unusual indeed. This man's mystique grew by the second.

Well, if he had learned one thing from his time in the modern-day church, it was that it was always best to first ask politely. The inquisitors would still be ready for their orders if and when the party in question failed to give the answers he needed.

Shirou gave the young man an honest smile. "Yes. I am the overseer," he assured the boy. "My name is Shirou Kotomine. It is a pleasure to meet you."

The effect of his name was instantaneous. The boy's guard tripled immediately, his arms moving into a fighting stance as he took a frightened step backwards. Shirou immediately sent out an urgent order for Semiramis to stand down. She had maneuvered behind the boy and had very nearly decapitated him on the spot.

"Kotomine?" the boy asked, his tone very different from a moment earlier. "You wouldn't happen to know a Kirei Kotomine, would you?"

Shirou's face lit up with joy. "Yes! My brother. You know Kirei? How is he?"

After his failure to stop Darnic Prestone Yggdmillennia in the Third Holy Grail War, Shirou had been found by Father Risei Kotomine, the overseer at the time. The man had graciously adopted Shirou into his family, giving him access to the resources of the Holy Church to prepare for his next chance at the Grail.

In time, he'd also gained a brother. Kirei traveled with their father for the most part, but he had kept track of him as best he could. He had watched from afar as the talented boy had grown into a skilled and humble Servant of the Lord.

Nevertheless, though he did love his brother, Shirou had decided to limit their contact. He didn't fully understand the impulse. In a way, it felt like a revelation, but at the same time, it was almost instinctive. Whatever the case, he began to feel that remaining in contact with Kirei would ultimately be harmful to the both of them. There was a… distortion of some sort lurking within his brother, and as much as he wished he could heal it, he could think of no way to do so without risking the annihilation of them both.

Still, he tried to keep an ear out for news about him. And of course, his darling niece Caren. It was truly a shame about her mother.

What was his involvement with this mage? Perhaps he wed him to his sweetheart? Or maybe helped him see the light of God?

On the other hand, neither possibility would account for the boy's decidedly hostile reaction. However, it only lasted a moment. Then he scratched his head nervously. "Erm… he taught my friend magecraft."

Shirou quirked an eyebrow, "Really? I was unaware Kirei had studied magecraft."

"Well, I don't know all the details. I'm sorry, my friend doesn't really like to talk about him," the boy apologized.

Shirou sighed, to think that his brother had undergone something as significant as learning magecraft and hadn't thought to tell him. Kirei probably didn't mean anything by it. His efficiency was such that it probably didn't even cross his mind, but he still wished to be able to keep track of his accomplishments.

Oh well. Back to the enigma at hand.

He gave the boy a respectful bow. "That is fine. It is good to hear of him. Now then, are you a Master of Red? I was unaware the Clock Tower had recruited someone so young."

"Me? No, I'm not a Master," the young man denied. He raised his black Command Seals. "This is… well I honestly don't know what this is, but I can't summon a Servant with it. My friend though, she's a Master."

"She?" Not Shishigou then.

"Yeah. We weren't expecting to be a part of this war, but my friend's teacher—not your brother, mind you—decided to get us involved," he explained. "Except, we have no idea what's going on. We've fought in a Grail War before, but our Servant told us things are different in this Great War. Like with two teams of seven Servants, and how it's set in Romania. We figured that since the Church oversees the Holy Grail War as a neutral party, we could come see you for answers."

A Master who was completely unaware of where the pieces were placed in this War? This was growing beyond intriguing and turning into something suspicious. Perhaps Shishigou was killed after all and his Command Seals were passed to the young man's friend, a veteran of another offshoot Grail War as a replacement? That situation was still extraordinarily unlikely. And what kind of teacher would simply drop their pupils into a Holy Grail War, to say nothing of failing to inform them about who they were fighting against?

It didn't matter. He had only sympathy for their plight, but this unknown variable was far too unpredictable to leave to their own devices. She needed to be put with the others immediately.

Shirou painted his most welcoming smile across his face. "Of course. I would be happy to provide you with all the information you need. It is my duty as both the overseer and a fellow Master of Red. Would you please ask your friend to come join us?"

The boy cringed. "I can guarantee she won't do that."

Shirou raised his eyebrows. "Is that so? Might you explain why that is?"

"Because she's not a Master of Red."

Semiramis had once again positioned herself behind the boy in spirit form. Shirou ordered her to hold her strike. No agent of the Black Faction would just come out and reveal themselves so openly. Something else was in play here. Still, he slid his black keys from his sleeve into his hand, not invoking the blades, but ready to go at a moment's notice.

The boy quickly seemed to realize the implications of his words and raised his hands in a placating manner. "She's not a Master of Black either!"

That made Shirou raise an eyebrow. "Explain."

"Well… she's not a Master of Red or a Master of Black. We're… a third faction, I suppose. She didn't come because she figured you'd kill her rather than give her information."

"So, she sent you instead."

The boy nodded.

"Judging by those black keys you've got in your hand, I'm going to say her suspicions were justified."

Shirou stowed the weapons, his smile never faltering.

"You're very observant, aren't you?"

This was impossible. The Grail's _prana_ reserves were already taxed summoning the fourteen Servants for the Great War, as well as the Ruler. Even if it was only one more, it shouldn't have the power to bring forth any heroic spirits for a third faction. And yet, the young man before him seemed too earnest to lie. And the mysterious black seals on his hand were proof enough that something unusual was taking place.

Then again, wasn't a Ruler from a previous war taking over a faction from the inside already an unprecedented event.

This new master would inevitably become an obstacle for him. Like the Black Faction, she would have to join him in his quest, or be eliminated. If she had come to the church, he would have ensured she chose one immediately.

But the girl had been clever in sending her friend. If something happened and he did not return, she would make a beeline for him and he would risk losing Servants before the battle with the Black Faction even began. With seven heroes on either side, losing even one preemptively would be a severe blow.

On the other hand, if he gave them the information they wanted, they could go after Yggdmillenia, and at the very least provide a distraction from his own plans. After all, the Black Faction had no idea this new group even existed, and the element of surprise could give them a critical advantage.

Shirou smiled, impressed. The girl, whoever she was, had manipulated events so that the only way he could win was if he gave her exactly what she wanted. And with her friend here in her place, he had no way to nip her threat in the bud. It was a superb move.

The priest signaled Semiramis to restrain herself. He sat down on one of the pews and motioned for the boy to join him.

"Your friend is quite the impressive strategist, young man."

The boy grinned and took a seat. "I agree. She's pretty incredible."

"I will perform my duties as the overseer to the best of my ability. Please bear in mind however that I cannot divulge any information directly relating to the Red Faction, nor can I answer anything that might pose a threat to my associates," Shirou explained.

He told the boy of the current situation, of how the Yggdmillenia had seceded from the Mages Association, of their position in Trifas. He even let slip that they had summoned Vlad the Impaler as Lancer. It would do him no good if they were caught off guard by the son of Dracul. If their Servant was eliminated, he stood to gain nothing from any of this.

Moreover, Darnic had spent decades studying the Grail. It would not surprise him if he had discovered a way to forcefully recontract Heroic Spirits. It would be even worse if their Servant were to be captured. He relayed this information as well.

"In addition," he continued. "We have confirmed the summoning of a Ruler Servant."

The boy raised an eyebrow. "A Ruler Servant? What's that?"

"A Servant summoned by the Grail itself to act as a mediator in the war," Shirou explained. "Its duty is to keep the competition from affecting the outside world. They are given two Command Seals for each Servant in the war and are required to have no wish for the Grail upon being summoned."

He remembered how this had been the case when he had been summoned. But that had changed when he had witnessed the abysmal state of the modern world. No better than the past he had left behind.

If he didn't help mankind achieve salvation, how many more would suffer?

He had to save everyone.

The boy smiled in relief at the description of the Ruler. "That's fantastic. A lot of innocent people got drawn into the last Grail War I fought in. I'm glad that won't happen here."

Shirou joined in his joy. Despite his plans for his fellow Servant, he had no desire for innocents to be harmed either. The Ruler's duty was truly a righteous one, even if it was sadly insufficient in the face of what needed to be done. It was a shame that he couldn't afford to have another Ruler running amok, but it was a necessary evil. And it would be one of the last evil deeds to ever be committed in the history of mankind.

Still, he was pleased that the boy was such a caring soul. Such compassion was rarely found among mages. Though, he would admit, he was curious about one aspect of the boy's story.

"Young man, you have alluded to your experience in a previous grail war. Do you mean to say you took part in an offshoot Holy Grail War?"

The boy immediately started sweating. "Well, I don't think it was an offshoot, but my friend and I took part in a Grail War in Fuyuki. Though my participation wasn't what you would call planned."

"Fuyuki?" Shirou muttered. "I was unaware that any of the false wars were held in the Grail's original home."

The boy paused at that and looked away, lost in thought. Shirou wasn't sure what to think of the boy's declaration. He didn't feel like the young man was lying, but he had endeavored to keep track of the all the false wars that had sprung up after the original wish granter's apparent disappearance. He knew for a fact that none had taken place in Fuyuki.

So why did this child believe he had fought in one?

The red-haired boy eventually turned back to Shirou with a worried expression on his face. "Father Kotomine, how did the Grail get from Fuyuki to Romania?"

Shirou closed his eyes for a moment, recalling his most recent failure. "During the Third Holy Grail War, the last true war, the leader of the Yggdmillenia clan, Darnic Prestone, discovered the Greater Grail, the source of the ritual. Seeing an opportunity, he allied himself with the Nazis and used them to steal the device. The Three Founding Families tried to stop him, but…"

 _A woman with long white hair lay unmoving in a field of red snow._

 _It was your fault._

"…he slaughtered them all."

The boy rubbed his hand through his hair, his lips tight in a thin line of rage.

Shirou couldn't blame him. It had taken years before he could look back on the event without suffering from the hatred he had needed to cast aside. He had done everything he could to save his Einzbern master, just as Risei had done all he could to save his friends, the Tohsakas. In the end, neither of them could save anyone.

The boy rose, his fists clenching for a moment before slowly letting out a deep breath. "I see. That's… not what I was expecting."

Expecting? How could the boy not know that? It was decades old history, and if he had participated in a Grail War before, then certainly he would have studied up.

Shirou had thought the boy an enigma. Now he felt the term was far too lenient.

The boy turned to Shirou and held out a hand. "Thank you for your help, Father Kotomine."

Shirou smiled and grasped the offered gesture. "It was my pleasure."

It truly was. Despite the boy clearly holding back a great deal of information, he had been polite, earnest, and good natured. Even when he was not telling the whole truth, it was clearly for the sake of his master, an admirable trait in and of itself. He simply wished he could stop referring to him as _boy_.

"Young man, I understand that you cannot reveal your master's identity for her protection, but may I know your name?" Shirou inquired.

The red-haired boy paused for a moment, as if listening to some unseen voice in his mind, but in the end however, he smiled at the priest. "I don't see an issue with that. My name is Shirou. Shirou Emiya."

The priest raised an eyebrow at that. True, Shirou was not an uncommon name among their people, but to find one so mysterious so far from Japan was rather amusing. He couldn't help the light chuckle that escaped his lips.

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Shirou Emiya. I wish you good fortune in the war to come."

"Likewise, Shirou Kotomine."

With that, the boy headed for the door.

Surprisingly, it opened before he could arrive. A large man in a black leather jacket and three scars over his right eye, slightly hidden by the jet-black shades he wore, nearly plowed right over him.

Emiya jumped out of the way and bowed in apology. "I'm sorry. I didn't see you there."

The newcomer, who Shirou recognized as Kairi Shishigou, raised an eyebrow. "No worries, kid. It's fine."

Emiya rose and smiled earnestly at the mercenary. "Thank you. …have a nice day, sir."

From behind his sunglasses, Shishigou's eyes glanced at the boy's Command Seals. "Yeah. You too."

With that, Emiya nodded again and exited the church.

Shishigou strode towards the priest. "You're the Holy Church's master?"

Shirou nodded. "Indeed. My name is Shirou Kotomine."

"Kairi Shishigou. Care to tell me who that was?"

The priest smiled. "Of course. We have a great deal to discuss."

* * *

 _ **FATEFATEFATEFATEFATEFATE**_

Rin was on guard until Shirou returned, a _gandr_ aimed at the door. Saber had her armor on and her sword out until her former Master stepped into their temporary base.

Since the three of them would be in Sighisoara for a bit, they had rented a basement from an elderly couple (Why couldn't she just swallow her pride and hypnotize them?!) to serve as their home base while they got their bearings. The place was a bit musty, but the leylines would help prevent detection from outside magecraft.

After becoming Zelretch's apprentice, and reading up on how many of her predecessors had gone insane, Rin had taken to keeping her gem satchel with her at all times, just in case. Granted, being sent to another dimension to fight in a supersized Holy Grail War hadn't been what she was expecting, but hey, the life of a future kaleidoscope was never dull.

Oh, how she missed dull.

She hadn't exactly been given any time to prepare herself, so her supply of jewels was limited to some twenty-two gems of various sizes and prana values. She had been forced to pawn off one of them to get the money for the basement and had then used two more to form a communication link with Shirou. He had kept his crystal in his pocket during his conversation with the overseer, letting her–and Saber through their Master-Servant connection–hear everything that was said, as well as to try to stop him from boneheadedly telling the priest his name.

That left her with nineteen jewels for the whole war.

Nineteen jewels for fourteen Servants.

It had taken three just to hold Heracles in place for six seconds. Three more for a simple barrier spell that was shattered by a mere familiar.

The next time she saw Zelretch, she was going to kick him in _his_ family jewels.

She sighed and looked balefully at Shirou. "Are you sure you weren't followed?"

"I caught two dove familiars trailing me back, but I took care of them," he assured her. "How are you?"

Rin tried to smirk at her boyfriend but even she could feel it was fake. "Shouldn't I be asking you that? I sent you into an enemy Master's workshop by yourself."

"It was the best option we had. Besides, if anything went wrong, I know you and Saber would have come to save me. Though, I'm not sure what he would have done if you had come."

Rin snorted. Kirei's mysterious brother was one hell of a surprise for sure. She wondered what sort of variation in this timeline had led to that happening. He certainly didn't sound young enough to have been born after her old teacher, so something else must have changed to add another son to the Kotomine family.

Still, as much as she distrusted the name, Rin wasn't someone going to blame someone for events that they had absolutely nothing to do with. "What was he like? The priest? Did you get the same bad feeling about him that you did with Kirei?"

Shirou scratched his chin in thought. "No. Not like Kirei. If anything, he felt kind of like Archer, though he was a lot nicer. He seems…honest, if very dedicated to the War. We'll have to fight him eventually, but if we need an alliance I think he'd be a good place to start."

Rin sighed. "Well, that's good to know at least."

"An alliance at this stage could be unwise," Saber advised. "While we would be a crucial advantage for either side while both are at full strength, they would at best be able to position us so they can easily eliminate us once we are no longer of use to them. At worst, we would be simple cannon fodder."

Shirou clenched his fists. "I'm sorry. I dragged you both into this just so that I could protect innocents from the War, but that Ruler Servant is already here for that purpose."

Rin put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You couldn't have known that, Shirou. Besides, Ruler may be able to protect bystanders, but they have no control over what the person who wins the Grail does with it," her eyes narrowed. "On what _he_ does with it," she huffed.

Darnic Prestone Yggdmillenia. She'd heard the name in their world. He had been one of the masters of the Third War that she'd researched in preparation for her own. There, he'd died in pursuit of the chalice. Here, he'd taken it.

And killed her family.

Maybe they weren't her blood. Maybe she never met them. But they were Tohsakas nonetheless. And he had murdered them.

This wasn't like with Kirei though. When she'd realized he had murdered her father, she'd been furious. It was annoying enough that she'd been powerless, but it had at least been satisfying to watch Lancer kill the bastard. It was a shame it had been at the cost of his own life.

But in this case, her fury was less primal. She couldn't care as much that Darnic had murdered her ancestors. She'd never even met her own grandparents. What infuriated her the most was that he had stolen the Grail from them and was now treating it like his own property. He wasn't just insulting them, he was insulting the entire Tohsaka family, including her, just by having the Grail and high jacking it for his own ends. He'd had his shot and he'd failed, so he decided to throw a temper tantrum and spit all over their struggles.

She wasn't powerless this time. For the sake of her pride, she could at least avenge her family's honor and grind Darnic into the dirt where he belonged.

Well, that was why they were headed to Trifas.

"Alright, according to the priest, the Red Faction was cobbled together in barely over a week. The Black Faction has been preparing since Darnic stole the Grail. Fortunately for us, the Black Faction also have no idea we exist," Rin began. "If we use hit and run attacks against them and carefully assess their defenses, we may be able to weaken them so that when the Red Faction makes their move, the two will be evenly matched. Then, we can swoop in and take out whoever's left."

Saber frowned. "It is a sound strategy, Rin. But it does seem a tad… dishonorable."

"We don't have a choice," Rin declared. "You're strong, Saber. But even you can't take on fourteen other Servants, yourself. Especially if one is Vlad the Impaler. In most places, he would be summoned as a vampire, but here in Romania where he's a hero, he'll be a king, and have a massive boost in power due to his own fame. If we're really unlucky, he might even have access to the Imperial Privilege skill, and that's basically a cheat card that lets a Servant do whatever the hell they want."

Saber narrowed her eyes, but her stare was more contemplative than angry. Rin knew how hard this was for the King of Knights. While she was capable of discarding her honor if pragmatism demanded it, it was not something she enjoyed.

She sighed and nodded. "You are correct. Without Avalon, I am at a massive disadvantage against a foe of such power. It's like Gilgamesh all over again."

Shirou cocked an eyebrow. "Avalon? What's that?"

Rin rolled her eyes. "Avalon is a conceptual weapon Saber had while she was alive, Shirou. It grants her nearly unlimited regeneration. It's why she didn't age a day after she pulled the sword from the stone."

"Really? That's incredible! What happened to it?"

"It was stolen from me shortly before the Battle of Camlann," Saber explained. "If it had not been, the wounds that killed me would have been healed instantly. Like how yours were when you fought Archer."

"Geez, that'd be a nice thing to have right about now…" Shirou mused. "To have that kind of healing available at all times… and I still haven't figured out how I did that."

Rin sighed. "Yes. Another tidbit of mysterious knowledge that will do us no good if we focus on it right now. We need to come up with—"

A sheet of paper _poofed_ into the air in front of her, floating gently to the ground. Rin's eyes widened when she recognized the handwriting and she readily snatched it out of the air. Saber and Shirou leaned over her shoulder to read it.

 _My god, how did you three survive a Grail War?!_

 _The scabbard is in the idiot! There! You have a 'chance.' With him around, I get the distinct impression that you might never figure that out on your own, even given time._

 _This is the last time I'll be providing any assistance. You'll have to do the dirty work yourself, so… murder, mayhem, tax evasion, all that messy business is up to you._

 _Regards and best of luck,_  
 _Your beloved master,_

 _K.Z.S._

 _ **Postscript:**_ _I assure you, this is not because I feel guilty for eating your tofu. It was vastly inferior to my chicken fries. Not your fault, mind you, merely that particular kind of tofu is a travesty against God and all his creations, is unsuited for use as anything other than paint thinner, and simply should never exist in any form. I am genuinely appalled that you're capable of eating that._

 _ **Post Postscript:**_ _On a much more serious note, I feel it would be wise to give you a warning about Darnic Prestone Yggdmillenia: I can assure you that you're a better mage than him in terms of talent, natural ability, and even raw power; just as in our world, he's little more than a manipulative, two-faced plagiarist. However, Darnic… cheats._

 _I'll explain: He's assimilated several souls into himself in order to extend his lifespan—only three times total, but as I'm certain you're well aware, that's far more than the norm—and in doing so, he has also acquired the power those souls contained. It doesn't help that he's a conniving schemer. He'll be more than a match for you if you try to face him directly. Nevertheless, it is in your best interest to ensure he dies. That priest was telling the truth, but if anything, he gave you a watered-down summary, not that this provides much more detail: In the world you currently find yourself, Darnic's alliance with the Nazis, turned out to be a rather one-sided arrangement._

 _From what I determined during my stay in that world, he had a Servant of unrivaled power. A great Irish hero who supposedly had access to all knowledge in the world, and as such could determine his enemies' weaknesses almost instinctively. But I digress. With this familiar at his side, he systematically hunted down and butchered all the members of the Three Families like animals. This includes your ancestors, as I'm sure goes without saying._

 _You may have a brief advantage when he hears your last name. He'll likely be… shall we say unsettled… to find out that he not only 'missed one,' but allowed them to roam free, so that she might be able to acquire power and seek revenge on him. Which though never a good thing, nevertheless would not lower you from the moral high ground in any contest involving this petty thief. If he figures out that you arrived where and when you are using Second Magic—and he might, he's a cheat not a fool—he's certain to make a point of 'acquiring' you in some form or another. You'll be getting a failing grade on this if you get your soul stolen by this leech._

 _As for his treachery: Once he had acquired the Grail, he called in his Nazi collaborators and successfully had it airlifted to his castle outside Trifas. And then he slaughtered all of them. Now, I'll admit, a dead Nazi is the best kind of Nazi, but nevertheless, they did much of the work, and he got all the credit because there was no one left to whom the deed could be attributed, which is consistent with most of his life's 'achievements'._

 _He's surrounded himself with other talented mages, giving them his family name, and I expect that he wouldn't bat an eye at killing them all if it helped him reach the Root._

… _It occurs to me that this postscript is much longer than the actual letter. Perhaps this should have been the content to begin with and the thing about the scabbard should have been the postscript._

 _ **Post Post Postscript:**_ _One last thing of note; Celenike Icecolle Yggdmillenia._

 _She's just_ _terrible_ _._

 _The worst sort of person. Awful, perverse, grotesque, top-heavy yak… just all sorts of unpleasant nouns. If you see her, kill her. Trust me, if you let her escape, she'll start fantasizing about mutilating your corpses in her smallclothes while making assumptions about how you pity her, which… unfortunately, your significant other_ _might_ _._

Rin's eyes nearly popped out of her sockets. She whirled on her boyfriend. "Shirou! Did you know about this?"

"That your tofu was better than Burger King? It'd be hard not to—"

"That's not what I—Wait. Hard because you hate fast food or because you like my cooking?"

…

"Both? I mean between the two of us we could probably open a restaurant. Also, I'll admit, I hate mapo, but I can recognize a well-made dish when I eat it."

Saber gently pushed the two apart before Rin could decide whether to kiss Shirou or kill him. "We are getting off topic. I am sure Shirou loves your cooking just as he loves you Rin."

The dark-haired girl blushed, turning away from the others ever so slightly in order to hide the grin that had sprouted across her face.

Shirou sighed. "Thanks, Saber. I'm not always the best at saying what I mean."

"Think nothing of it, Shirou."

The King of Knights spoke no differently than she usually did, but Rin couldn't help but notice that she was eyeing Shirou with what could only be described as fascination.

"A lot of things suddenly make sense now," murmured Saber. "That being said, I'll need to borrow my scabbard for the time being," she held out a gauntleted hand.

Rin blinked. She supposed it only made sense that she'd want it back. Avalon was said to be King Arthur's most prized possession, but—wait, what did she mean by 'borrow?'

"I was kind of expecting you to just want it back, period," Rin said by way of commentary.

"Oh, I most certainly do. I would happily take possession of my scabbard, however…"

She gave Shirou a look of complete exasperation.

"There's just the issue of your total lack of responsible behavior during our previous War."

Ohhh riiight…

Rin was sure her own face was mirroring Saber's now.

"I would like to keep it in my possession just until we encounter some other Servants, Vlad Tepes III in particular. Just to ensure I am not killed at such an early stage. And though I regret the necessity, it is, after all, just that. I'll need to return it to you."

"I really don't understand. Why do I need it more than you? — _Wait_ , hold on, what do you mean irresponsible?"

Rin and Saber looked at each other, sighed, shook their heads, then went back to giving him that look.

"Okay, why are you two looking at me like that?

"I feel like I should not have to answer this, particularly since I am quite certain I've said it before, but you serially put yourself into unnecessary danger, to the point that it was difficult to gauge whether you even had a rudimentary self-preservation instinct. You lost enough blood, over the course of that one week, to fill a warhorse. You had your ribs shattered by the shockwave from Archer's attack that night in the graveyard with Berserker. Archer nearly severed your spine when Caster strung you up into Ryuudou Temple."

"You've got a pretty good point, Saber." Rin added. "Come to think of it, when you took that chain–or whatever that thing was–for me when the Rider class Servant attacked us, it punched clear through your wrist! And then you immediately ran off to fight a Servant on your own! It's a wonder you didn't bleed out right there, forget actually managing to survive long enough for help to arrive while Rider attacked you!"

"And that isn't even mentioning your duel with Archer—" Saber went on even further.

"Hey, but you agreed not to interfere with that fight—"

"Yes, I did. That does not mean I supported your decision. It was reckless of you, and by all means, you should not have come out of that battle alive. Archer dealt you multiple fatal wounds, and I can see now that the only reason you survived at all was because of Avalon. You could have simply let me—"

"Okay, okay, I get it!" he pleaded.

"Do you, Shirou? Do you really?" Saber eyed him disparagingly.

Rin very slowly shook her head no, to which Saber could only respond with a sigh. "Please just stop…" whined Shirou.

"Thus, my decision to merely borrow it."

Saber and Rin both nodded to one another again, as the Servant once again raised her arm, giving him a stern look.

"But for now… my scabbard, Shirou."

He paled.

"I-I don't know how to give it to you. What did the letter even mean by 'the scabbard is in me?'"

"Exactly what it sounds like," Rin said matter-of-factly.

"If there's a scabbard inside me, shouldn't I have felt the effects of it being there for… however long it's been there? It should be in the way of something. It'd be at least as long as Saber's sword, right?"

"It's a powerful magical artifact, it wouldn't cause any problems," Rin added.

"Just for the record, I don't know how long I've had it, either. I certainly don't remember anything about getting some sort of sheath put into my body."

"That's fine."

"If you plan on trying to surgically remove—"

Saber and Rin were giving him a different look now, one of confusion.

"We can't get Avalon out of your body by cutting it out of you."

Shirou breathed a sigh of relief, but at the same time, he began to sweat. Not cutting it out just meant that it had to be removed in some other way that he hadn't thought of.

"I still don't know how to remove it though."

Saber drummed the fingers of her right hand against her other gauntlet. She looked to Rin, who shrugged. Turning back to Shirou she said,

"It shall likely be a process of trial and error."

She probably wasn't considering the fact that her former Master might come away from this with a few burns or bruises, because she'd spoken just a tiny bit too brightly than would have been reassuring.

"Yeah, I don't like the sound of that either."

"Don't worry, it'll be fine, most of my ideas barely even involve touching you," Rin said. "Most of them. Now, arms out at your sides, don't lower them for anything. If you get tired, Saber can hold them up for you."

It wasn't like he had a choice. Even if Rin was being a bit gung ho about it, Saber had been right about needing Avalon.

It was going to be a very long evening.

That night, just as Rin slept with Shirou in her arms, Saber did with Avalon.

Although the king was far more affectionate.

* * *

 **This story will not always be updated this quickly, once a month will probably be closer to normal rate, but I pushed myself to make an announcement...**

 **Of my brand new P a treon! (The site really does not like that word, does it?)**

 **Yes, I have started pat reon! I'm never going to stop doing this, but it can't hurt to put myself out there. Link below and on my profile!**

 **Link (delete spaces): www. p atreon.c om (s lash) themaster4444**

 **Thank you for Reading! I hope you enjoy what comes next!**

 **Go Forth and Conquer!**

* * *

 **Omake: Rin and Saber's Lecture — The Fate Route Version- Written by Draconic**

"There's just the issue of what happened during our first fight in our previous War."

Ohhh riiight…

Rin was sure her own face was mirroring Saber's now.

"I would like to keep it in my possession just until we encounter some other Servants, Vlad III in particular. Just to ensure I am not killed at such an early stage. And though I regret the necessity, it is, after all, just that. I'll need to return it to you."

"I really don't understand. Why do I need it more than you? Wait, hold on, what was wrong with what I did when we fought Berserker?"

Rin and Saber looked at each other, sighed, shook their heads, then went back to giving him that look.

"Okay, why are you two looking at me like that?

"I feel like I should not have to answer this, particularly since I am quite certain I've said it before, but—"

"No, you've got a point, Saber. I'll save you the trouble," Rin interrupted, "The issue is that you got everything on and in your torso–with the exception of your spine– _smacked halfway across a graveyard, you numbskull!_ "

"That was—"

"If you honestly think you can say anything that'll justify taking a _five-hundred fricking percent lethal attack_ for someone who will die the second you do, you are certifiably insane."

Shirou shut up.

Rin and Saber both nodded to one another again, as the Servant once again raised her arm, giving him a stern look.


	3. Chapter 3

**And so the chapter of May arrives!**

 **P a treon: p a Treon.(c om) (backslash) themaster4444**

 **Beta-ed by Draconic**

* * *

"These clothes feel amazing! Thank you Master," Mordred cheered, a spring in her step as she looked over her new outfit.

Kairi shrugged. "Don't worry about it. It was a necessary expense."

God knew if it wasn't he wouldn't have put out a dime for them. The freelance mage business paid well enough, but money dried up just as quickly as anything else in the world. Like life, it wasn't something to be wasted on unnecessary things. But, Mordred wanted to be able to walk around in public, and she seemed like a good kid. There was no harm in granting her wish.

"It's strange. We came all the way out here to the heart of the enemy. But nobody has attacked us yet."

That too. They thought alike and he could already see that they had a good Master/Servant dynamic going on already.

Besides, he owed her one for backing him up with the priest. Kairi had encountered members of the Eight Sacrament Assembly before, hell he'd even worked with them a few times, and they were never what you'd call normal. Religious supercommandos rarely were. But then, he was a necromancer who made toxic smoke grenades out of peoples' hearts and demanded payment in the form of a dead baby hydra, so who was he to judge?

Even so, something about Shirou Kotomine had just seemed…off. More so than usual when dealing with the Holy Church. The man just seemed too soft spoken, too pleasant. Maybe he was just being polite, but unless he was a saint, that kind of purity could only have been a façade. His instincts had been screaming at him to leave as soon as he could, but they did that with most of the jobs he took. If he listened to them over his logic every time, he'd never get any work.

But Mordred echoing his own thoughts? Yeah, that was a good enough reason to get the hell out of there as soon as possible.

The priest had seemed disappointed at his decision, but he had bid them a fond farewell. His Servant, Semiramis, got a bit uppity with him, but she didn't attack him. Acting independently or not, they were still on the same team. They'd hold off any backstabbing until the Black Faction was dealt with.

 _'And this Third Faction,'_ Kairi thought grimly.

Hadn't _that_ been a surprise. In addition to the intel on Yggdmillenia and Ruler, Kotomine had informed them of the unexpected addition to the Great Holy Grail War. The priest had sounded pretty sure that the Grail's _prana_ reserves couldn't support more than the one Master, but that didn't put Kairi at ease. Whoever this Master was, they were smart, staying hidden away in some hidey-hole and sending an emissary to collect information from the Overseer in their place.

Normally, Kairi would be concentrating on finding out who this master was and what their Servant could do, but honestly, he was more concerned about the emissary. The red headed kid he'd let walk right past him. The guy with the strange black Command Seals.

Shirou Emiya.

He wasn't surprised Kotomine didn't realize the significance of the surname. He'd thought he'd heard the last of the Emiya name years ago.

Kairi had been one of the best in the business ever since his daughter died, but if anyone were to ask him who was the _best_ in the mage mercenary game, there could only ever be one answer:

Kiritsugu Emiya.

The Mage Killer was infamous in his day; a ruthless assassin who never failed a job. Kairi had had the supreme displeasure of working with him once. It wasn't that he was particularly unpleasant; more that there was something unsettling about the man. Like he was completely empty.

Nevertheless, the man knew what he was doing. He knew how mages thought, almost to a frightening extent, and he was well aware how to use modern technology—and honestly, a little common sense—to get around the most intricate of obstacles. It didn't matter what hexes or bounded fields his target had defending them. Once he took a mark, that person was already dead. Whether they realized it or not.

The target that they had gone after together had been a man who'd slaughtered more than thirty Enforcers. Kiritsugu had made it just a little too obvious that they were coming, which Kairi had found infuriating. It didn't make sense until their target attacked them preemptively. The spell used had turned the surrounding environment to glass from the sheer heat. Kiritsugu fired a single shot in the same instant. And their job had ended before Kairi had the opportunity to do anything. The Mage Killer hadn't batted an eye as the other mage's body tore itself apart at the seams. It took five minutes before the sounds of screaming, bones crunching, and joints snapping finally stopped. When Kairi had looked again, their target wasn't even human anymore.

Humans didn't die like that.

The right arm had turned inside out and was actually inside the man's torso, which had torn open like something out of a horror movie. There were the obvious and bloody signs of a catastrophic aneurism, and half of the joints were bending in the exact opposite direction from how they were supposed to move. Both hands had snapped apart, the fingers shattered like bundles of twigs, barely held together by a few strands of sinew.

All this from a single shot from an old gun.

That was what it meant to be hunted by the Mage Killer.

Publicly, the Mages Association decried Kiritsugu as a renegade and a disgrace, but behind closed doors they employed him just as much as anyone else. It was also entirely possible that many in the Mages Association just resented him for being so brazenly technologically literate as well. But when you were skilled and efficient, people tended to overlook moral quandaries and personal grudges, and the Clock Tower was no exception. Hell, if he hadn't finally kicked it a few years back, he probably would have been recruited for this Grail War mess. No, not _probably_. Guaranteed.

And now some kid with his name showed up working for a supposedly impossible Master? That was too much of a coincidence for Kairi.

Whether this Shirou Emiya really was related to the Mage Killer or was just using the name to take advantage of the reputation, Kairi had little doubt he would end up being one of the most dangerous forces in the Grail War.

And that meant the necromancer needed to know who he was and fast. He'd get his feelers on it as soon as possible, but until then…

A line of people with red eyes dressed in spotless white military uniforms occupied the surrounding streets. A dozen hulking rock golems lumbered up behind them.

…he had work to do.

Kairi pulled out his sawed-off shotgun, fully loaded with _gandr_ imbued fingers.

Mordred giggled. "Oh, I get it now. I thought it was just me, but you were a decoy too!" she slapped him heartily on the back—which given her strength, very nearly doubled him over. "Master, you just might be _insane!_ " the Saber declared with a good-humored, almost childlike grin, before letting it twist into something more feral. "I like it!"

Kairi recollected himself and stared down at the force before them. He could already hear the heavy footsteps of their reinforcements coming up behind them.

"You take the golems," he ordered. "I'll focus on getting rid of the homunculi."

"Yeah. And how 'bout that Servant on the roof back there?" she asked, not even gesturing.

Ah yes; their not so inconspicuous tail. Mordred had sensed them when they were getting the clothes, but they couldn't have attacked in the public shop. Once night had fallen, they'd initially waited for the hero to attack, but they never did, seemingly content to watch without taking action.

"Be on guard," Kairi advised. "If they're a Servant of Black, they'll use these guys as an opening. If they're one of the other Servants of Red, they might help us, or stand back."

And if they were a Servant of the Third Faction, who knew what they'd do. Regardless, they needed to deal with the problem in front of them.

"Show me the extent of your power, Saber!" Kairi shouted.

Mordred turned and caught an attack from one of the golems with one hand. She grinned. "Understood, _Master!_ "

They charged into the fray.

* * *

 **FATEFATEFATEFATEFATEFATE**

When Saber had accepted the Grail's summons for the third time, she hadn't expected to see any familiar faces. Being reunited with Shirou and Rin was a wondrous surprise that she would be eternally grateful for.

This was… less so.

When she had gone out to buy ingredients for Shirou as an apology for her… forceful handling of the matter of Avalon, the last thing she had anticipated was catching sight of _her_ in a nearby clothing store.

Mordred. The homunculus created from her genetic data. The warrior poisoned against her by her sister's venomous words… and her own, admittedly, subpar handling of the situation.

The knight who demanded to be her heir, and yet brought her kingdom low.

Her son, who she'd last seen when she drove Rhongomyniad through her chest.

What was she doing buying clothes in this time period?

The answer to that was obvious enough. She had been summoned, just as Arturia herself had been, to compete in the Great Holy Grail War. Why she was buying clothes with a large man with three scars over his right eye was more confounding. Could she not assume spirit form, or did she just wear modern clothing so that she could remain materialized by preference, as the King of Conquerors once did?

That seemed fine, but did she have to choose attire that was so… scant? It was unbecoming of a knight.

She should have returned to Shirou and Rin immediately, but against her better judgement, she began to follow her wayward son and her Master. She stuck to the rooftops to avoid civilian eyes as much as possible and tried to suppress her _prana_ , so Mordred wouldn't sense her.

It was surreal to see her again. When she had seen Lancelot in the Fourth Holy Grail War, she had been filled with horror and self-loathing. But with Mordred, her feelings were more conflicted. While she had accepted her decisions and the consequences thereof, she still remembered that Mordred had not only raged against her but chose to start a war that slaughtered thousands of innocents, knights who had been friends of them both.

The title of Knight of Treachery had been well earned.

But had her failure to understand her son not merited the betrayal?

On the other hand, the king's duty was to ensure his people's safety for as long as possible. Thus, was it not her duty to deny the throne to a reckless upstart who cared more about having the throne than the responsibility that came with it?

But, was it also not a parent's duty to protect and care for their child? To say nothing of skewering them with a divine artifact?

Ugh! She would be useless to Rin and Shirou if she allowed these conflicting emotions to unbalance her. She needed to deal with them immediately!

Of course, she was alone. Without her Master. It would be improper to initiate a battle when Rin was absent without her express orders.

Yes. She should observe the enemy Servant and then report back with what she'd learned. Preferably without being seen.

The two continued walking down a dark alleyway, only to be set upon by a hoard of homunculi and a squadron of hulking golems. The master pulled out a sawed-off shotgun and charged the homunculi, shouting, "Show me the extent of your power, Saber!"

Hmm, so Mordred had been summoned as a Saber. At least that meant she wouldn't have to deal with her being affected by Madness Enchantment.

Though honestly, it was difficult to tell the difference between her fighting style and that of a Berserker. As she had been in life, Mordred was both utterly bursting with power and completely lacking in any restraint. Her technique, if one could even call it that, was simply to smash the golems with whatever she had on hand. There was no finesse, no precision, and she threw her sword away like a fool!

Still, she was only fighting golems, so her brute force strategy was perfectly sufficient for the task. The homunculi, armed with only bows and polearms, were no match for her Master either, who blew through them with his firearm and a strange grenade made out of a heart.

It was over in minutes. Mordred finishing the last of the golems by carrying one over her head and smashing it into another.

Saber would deny it in the future, but that did bring a smile to her face.

"Looks like we're done here," the Master observed, stowing his gun inside his jacket.

"I'm surprised by your skill, Master," Mordred complemented.

Saber could agree with that assessment. That scarred mage had been ruthless in his attacks, but when faced with multiple opponents, that was perfectly understandable. He had been practical in his strategy, eliminating one group of foes before taking cover so he could evaluate the changed battlefield. It was not a knight's way of battle, but he was not a knight.

Besides, it was far more honorable than the last mage Saber had known who used firearms.

The master rubbed his chin in thought. "But why did they go all out like that?"

"All out? They didn't even send one of their Servants," Mordred whined. "Those cowards."

She glared at the rooftop during that last comment. Saber slowly backed away from the edge. Had she been detected? No. Mordred would never have been able to restrain herself if she knew someone was watching her.

"Let's retreat for today," the Master decided, examining some of the rubble of the golems, particularly the purple gems from their foreheads. "It wasn't a complete waste."

Mordred nodded and then started eagerly patting the man on the back. "So, with that out of the way, tell me. What do you think of my skills as a warrior?"

 _'Sloppy, overly aggressive, desperately in need of footwork…'_

"You're quite good," the Master declared with a smile. "I ended up with a magnificent Servant here."

"Damn right you did!" Mordred concurred. Her lips fell into a more contemplative expression. "I'm the only knight that far surpasses my father after all."

That was pushing it. Nevertheless, Saber knew that if she had been taking the fight seriously, all of those things would have been perfect, though perhaps with a little too much emphasis on using brute force.

Her Master chuckled. "Now, that part where you threw your sword, that may have been a bit much."

"You idiot," Mordred grinned merrily as the two started to walk away. "As long as you win in the end, who cares how you do it?"

Saber had to agree with the Master, that part was incredibly irresponsible. She blinked as a thought occurred to her. Had she been fighting like that because she was seeking approval?

No. Not right now. It wouldn't do to focus on such thoughts.

Saber backtracked and dashed off in the opposite direction, her mind awash with doubts despite her best efforts.

When Mordred had arrived at Camelot, she had been wearing full armor, helmet included. Her deeds earned her a place at the Round Table, but the other knights had no idea what she actually looked like. Saber only found out the day she came to her and revealed their relation. And on her face was an earnest smile.

Saber had been confounded by her enthusiasm and the news of Morgana's manipulations. She had had no idea how to respond to such news, but she had known Mordred, and she knew that despite her noble heart, she did not have the capacity to be king, seeing the throne only as a right and not a responsibility.

The enthusiasm quickly turned to fury and Saber thought to never see that earnest smile again.

And yet, when Mordred spoke with her Master, there it was.

The knight she had called friend, the son she would have been proud to call hers had fate not put the responsibility of kingship upon her, still lived. She was buried underneath the ruthless butcher who thought nothing of razing Camelot for vengeance, but she was still there.

There was still a hero hiding somewhere in that armor.

Saber found herself smiling.

But the thought quickly soured.

Whoever this Master was, he was bringing out the best of Mordred, reigniting the kind soul that had first sworn fealty to her, and who had eagerly adopted the values of knighthood. With her new, and admittedly better understanding of her own past, Saber wanted to speak with her son. To try and reconcile after their last battle… but it was more than likely that her presence would simply cause Mordred to regress back to the spiteful upstart she'd been upon her death. No, this was something best left to the scarred mage.

The smile remained on Saber's face, but it was the smile of a person who had a wish they couldn't imagine being granted. She had to stay away from her. The best thing that she could do for her wayward knight was to leave her alone.

Which meant that she, Rin and Shirou needed to leave this town immediately.

Besides, Mordred seemed to be under the illusion she had somehow surpassed the King of Knights. It would be kinder to let her live in that fantasy a little longer.

 _"Rin,"_ Saber called out telepathically. _"Where are you?"_

 _'Saber? Where have you been?! You were supposed to be back hours ago.'_

 _"My apologies, Master. Something… came up. Have you and Shirou secured the necessary supplies and transportation?"_

She could practically hear Rin sigh. _'We used up the last of the money from that jewel I sold, but yeah, we've got everything except what you said you were going to get.'_

Oh, yes, the groceries. She would have snatch up Shirou's ingredients from one of the closing stores and leave the money behind as payment. Normally she wouldn't ever consider such actions, but… Mordred.

' _Other than that, we're just waiting on you outside the house. Is everything okay?'_

" _Very well, Master. But you should prepare to move out as soon as I return. There is a dangerous Servant in this town."_

 _'You encountered the priest's?'_

Saber winced. _"Not exactly. I'll explain when we reconvene."_

* * *

 **FATEFATEFATEFATEFATEFATE**

"What did you mean by 'not exactly?' Saber? _Saber_?"

"Is something wrong?" Shirou inquired, just finishing up strapping their supplies onto the sidecar of the motorcycle they'd bought. She'd been hesitant about the matter, but getting to Trifas on foot would take ages. She ultimately determined that they'd need to sell more jewels, but when she'd been rooting through her satchel for something suitable, she found a pair of diamonds that she knew hadn't been there when last she'd checked its contents. She recalled what Zelretch had said in his first letter: _No sense in forcing you to find your own way there on your own dime_. The old man could be counted on from time to time after all. Nevertheless, it hadn't been enough for even a small used car. Thus, the motorcycle.

"She cut off her end of the link," Rin exclaimed. "Saber doesn't do that. That's like something that an angry teenager would do."

"Is she in trouble? I can go look for her," Shirou offered, rising from his station.

Rin held out a hand. "Don't bother. She's on her way. She should be here in a few minutes at the latest."

"Alright then." Shirou leaned back against the motorcycle, gazing at her with worried eyes. "How are you holding up? I know finding out about this Darnic guy can't have been easy."

Rin sighed and trudged over next to her boyfriend. "It's… complicated. I know he didn't kill _my_ family, but they were still Tohsakas. What pisses me off though is that he stole their lives' work, the Holy Grail, and polluted it for his own gains. He dishonored generations of hard work for a power-grab."

That was unforgivable to someone like Rin. Magecraft was an art, a practice to be meticulously researched throughout one's lifetime until their time ended and they entrusted their work to the next generation. Every family spent centuries furthering their research, adding to their magic crests, all of them working to the bone to thrive.

Rin knew there were mages out there who didn't share her principles, who stole the prized research of other families and used them for their own advancement. Even Luvia was better than that. The Edelfelts might have been battlefield scavengers, but in a certain regard, they were making sure that when a mage died without an heir, their research would live on. Darnic killed people so that he could pry their prized possessions out from their lifeless hands after they so rudely refused to hand over literally everything they valued. Darnic's type were scum who didn't deserve to be considered mages. She had slaved away for years, every day since her father died, so that she could call herself that. She would _not_ let Darnic Prestone Yggdmillenia reap the spoils of defiling her family, even if it was in another world.

"What do you think he's after?" Shirou inquired.

"The Root, probably. Same as most mages" Rin shrugged. "Doesn't really matter. Even if we can't pull out a win ourselves, there's no way I'm letting him get the wish."

"Tohsaka, you don't have to kill him."

"He's probably the Master of Lancer of Black. It'll be a lot easier to deal with him than Vlad the Impaler."

"We thought the same thing about Mr. Kuzuki and Caster, and look how that turned out," Shirou reminded her. "Rin, I agree we can't let him get the grail, but I don't want you to become obsessed with vengeance against a guy you've never met."

"Obsessed with vengeance?" Rin gave Shirou the stink eye. "Shirou, I am perfectly capable of annihilating our enemies without letting my personal feelings get in the way. God knows I'll need to if we're going to get out of this alive."

Shirou frowned worriedly. "If Kirei had survived what happened with Lancer, would you have been able to put things aside then?"

Rin had no answer to that, but she couldn't avoid the question, so she answered it with a question of her own.

"Would _you_ , if Caster had killed Ms. Fujimura?"

Shirou stared at her a moment, then sighed. "No. I don't know what I would have done if things had turned out that way. And that terrifies me, just like I'm terrified at the thought of what you might become."

Rin smiled and kissed his cheek. "And I love you for that, you idiot. But this isn't some drive-in movie where I throw away everything for some meaningless revenge. I'm going to make Darnic wish he never heard of the Holy Grail, but I'm going to do that because it's what we need to do to win and go home. Though I can't say I won't enjoy it."

Shirou raised an eyebrow, but he did have a ghost of a smile. "Alright, if you're sure. Just know that I'm always here for you."

"As if I could ever forget," Rin chuckled. She took his hand in hers. "I've got any world's biggest bonehead by my side until the very end."

Shirou grinned. "Always."

The two leaned in to kiss…

…And were interrupted by Saber landing next to them, grocery bags in her arms.

Rin instantly jumped away from Shirou, her cheeks blushing. "Saber, you're back already."

Saber briskly handed Shirou the groceries. "I'm truly sorry for the delay, but we need to move out immediately. Oh!" she noticed the motorcycle. "Is this our transportation?"

"Yeah. I needed to dish out two more jewels, but at least we have some money left over.

The Servant actually looked rather excited about being the driver. She must have wanted to finally put her Riding Skill to use. Still, something was definitely off and it wasn't just her being giddy over getting Avalon back.

"Shirou should protect the food in the sidecar," she said, handing her shopping bags off to him, "Rin, you are behind me."

"Saber wait, what's—"

"Shirou get in the sidecar!"

Saber must have used her Rank B Charisma in that shout, because Shirou was in the sidecar faster than Rin could blink, and he looked as surprised about it as her. Soon, she found herself sitting on the motorcycle behind her Servant as the group raced out of town.

Once they were on the highway, the wind blasting past their faces, Saber closed her eyes for a moment, her brow creased in concentration. A moment later, a cone of high-pressure air erupted around them and gleaming silver armor materialized over the motorcycle, as well as the sidecar. The wind was roaring past them now, but strangely, it wasn't buffeting them directly anymore.

"Saber!" Rin inquired, the wind howling far too loudly for her words to be heard without shouting. "What's going on?!"

"This is a byproduct of Invisible Air, Master. By using it to cover our vehicle, I can keep our wheels firmly on the road with the pressure while decreasing our air resistance to zero to increase speed. The most accurate name for the final result would be 'Motored Cuirassier.'"

Rin frowned. "Not what I meant, but good to know!" Her expression shifted to one of worry for her Servant. "Saber, tell us the truth. This isn't like you! What's so dangerous about this Servant that has you so rattled?"

"Whatever it is, I doubt it's anything the three of us can't handle together," Shirou assured her.

Saber sighed, reducing their speed to something more comfortable. "I'm sorry. I should not have acted so brashly. No matter our familiarity, you two are still my Masters. I have no place ordering you so."

"It's fine, Saber" Rin promised as they blazed down the road, a pickup truck racing by them in the opposite direction. "Just tell us what's wrong?"

Saber paused a moment, but eventually spoke up. "The Servant I saw in town. It was someone from my past. Someone I'm… not quite sure how I feel about or how to deal with."

"Who?"

…

…

…

For some time, the only sounds that could be heard were the rumble of the engines and the wind rushing past them.

"Saber, who was it?" Shirou asked.

Saber sighed. She just couldn't say no to him…

"Mordred."

Rin was so stunned that Shirou actually answered before she could. "Mordred? Your son?"

"Indeed. The homunculus offspring that Morgan le Fey created from me. The one who I believed was not capable of being king and so refused to acknowledge as heir," Saber lamented. "In the end, we slew each other at Camlann."

Rin gulped. She didn't know too much about the details of Saber's death beyond what the legends said, but anyone that could mortally wound her must have been a dangerous foe. "Is he dangerous?"

"Mordred? Not as I am now. She is certainly talented, but without a way to overcome Avalon, I need not fear her. Nevertheless, it would be in both of your best interests to stay out her way."

"If she's no danger to you, then wouldn't you just be able to defend us? Why did we rush out of town?"

"Because—"

An explosion rang through the night before she could reply. Ahead, Rin caught sight of a cloud of smoke rising from the road by a highway sign.

"Oh look, an explosion. We should go ensure no one was injured."

Rin scrunched her face in fury. "Saber, you aren't getting out of this that easily—"

A spike of _prana_ surged through the air, the likes of which Rin hadn't felt since the corrupted grail nearly manifested. The brisk night air was suddenly replaced with a heat wave so dry, the young magus frantically glanced about to make sure the grass beside the highway hadn't shriveled to ash in the sudden shift in temperature.

"Tohsaka. Do you feel that?" Shirou asked, a hint of worry in his voice. "We… should probably make sure no one got hurt."

Rin gulped. If even Shirou could understand the threat ahead, it was truly something they should avoid. Even if Saber had Avalon, they shouldn't charge headfirst into danger just because someone might need their help.

Oh wait, she forgot who she was with.

* * *

 **FATEFATEFATEFATEFATEFATE**

Jeanne's grip on her flag tightened as Lancer of Red glowed with power. Her True Name Discernment skill instantly relayed his identity and abilities to her.

Karna, Son of Surya the Sun God, Hero of Charity, a legendary warrior with few equals even in the vast expanse of the Throne of Heroes.

The Ruler had sensed his presence easily; it wasn't as though he was trying to hide it. He had provided her with ample time to know he was there and warn the civilian who was giving her a ride to Trifas in his truck. She'd sent the kind old man back the way they'd come and prepared for a battle.

A moment later, the demigod had dropped from the sky in an attack that the Maid of Orleans had only just managed to dodge, crushing the asphalt with his impact and sending a cloud of smoke and dust into the sky.

"Lancer of Red!" Jeanne called. "I am Servant Ruler. True name, Jeanne D'Arc. I am the Arbitrator of this Great Holy Grail War. Do you understand the meaning of baring your fangs at me?"

"It is unwise to ask questions to which you already know the answers," Karna replied calmly. "It should be obvious that my presence is a declaration of war."

Jeanne narrowed her eyes. The legends of Karna spoke of him as a man of near limitless honor and kindness. He wouldn't attack her without good cause. "What is your purpose for wanting to dispose of me?"

"Truthfully, I do not know" the Lancer admitted. "My Master commanded me. As per our contract, I simply act as instructed."

A Master's command? It was inconceivable that a Heroic Spirit as bound to virtue as Karna would lie to her, but it made no sense for a Master, _any_ Master, to want to kill her. While gaining Ruler as an ally would be beneficial to either faction, her death served no purpose so long as she remained neutral, as was her duty.

' _First, my summoning through Laeticia, then those strange revelations, and now this? What is going on in this Great Holy Grail War?'_

Lancer's golden spear ignited in an inferno of crimson flames. He raised it into an offensive position. "Let us proceed. Considering your special privileges, I have no need to hold back."

Jeanne grit her teeth as she raised her flag. While it was true that those of the Ruler class received a sizeable boost to their parameters, she was still far below Karna's level. If he deemed to use any of his Noble Phantasms, he would annihilate her in an instant.

And yet, she could not let herself die. Not when humanity was still in danger.

It was her duty to protect them.

"One attack as a tribute," Lancer declared. "That should more than enough to finish this duel. Prepare yourself—"

"Saber, get him!"

"Rin, take the wheel!"

"Saber, what are you—ah!"

Twin blurs, one silver, the other blue, sped towards Lancer from either side of the road. The demigod saw both coming and kneeled to the ground, spinning his spear to deflect both swords that came down on him. The Servant rose back up and repulsed both assailants, who stood protectively before Jeanne.

One was a tall man wielding a massive greatsword. Upon his head was a wild mane of unruly silver hair, with scale like gray armor coating a good deal of his body. His bare chest was engraved with what looked like a strange glowing scar of some sort. His stoic face gazed impassively on Karna, though he did raise an eyebrow at the other who stood beside him.

Siegfried, the hero of the Nibelungenlied. Saber of Black. A noble and strong hero if Jeanne ever saw one.

The other figure had a facial structure similar to Jeanne's own. She was far shorter than Siegfried but no less stunning. Starlight gleamed off the woman's silver armor and blue dress, her eyes hard as she observed both Karna and Siegfried. Her hands were positioned as if they were holding a sword, but to all appearances, she held nothing but empty air. Though given her knowledge of her identity, Jeanne guessed her blade would be too recognizable.

Arturia Pendragon, the King of Knights. Saber of…

What? That… that couldn't be right.

Jeanne blinked and gazed at the Servant again but her True Name Discernment did not give her any new information.

This was… utter nonsense. There were only supposed to be two factions in the Great Holy Grail War. And even if there were another side involved somehow, certainly it wouldn't be called… _that_.

Both Siegfried and Arturia warily eyed each other up, subtly shifting their forms so that they would be prepared for an attack from either Lancer or their surprise assistant.

Karna observed the two sword masters impassively. "You must be Saber of Black," he remarked of Siegfried. He turned to Arturia. "Does that make you Berserker of Black? Or perhaps I've simply confused one of you for the other? …No, the two of you are much too cautious of each other to be allies. How curious."

"That was a close one, Ruler!" A rather obese man with a thick blond mustache under his nose and a rather obvious combover jogged over to Jeanne. His hand was raised in greeting.

"I take it you are Saber of Black's master?" Jeanne inquired.

The man panted from his run but had a proud smile on his face at Jeanne's words. "That is correct. I am Gordes Munsik Yggdmillenia. It is a pleasure to meet you. Now then…"

He whirled on Karna. "Lancer of Red! We arrived just in time to clearly witness you attempting to murder Ruler. Plotting to eliminate the Arbitrator of the Holy Grail War is—"

"Saber!" A piercing screech stopped Gordes mid-speech.

Jeanne and the others all turned their eyes to behind Ruler. A young woman with long black hair and a red sweater rose from a motorcycle that was turned on its side. A boy with red hair followed her after righting a sidecar that had detached from the vehicle.

Jeanne's eyes widened. Both of the mages, for what else could they be, bore Command Seals on their hands, though the boy's were strangely black instead of the usual red.

The girl stomped up to Arturia, whose regal face suddenly looked quite panicked. "Rin, I'm terribly so—"

"No, Saber. No," the master, Rin apparently, declared. "I am used to this kind of reckless stupidity from Shirou, but I'm not letting you start acting like a fool too. I get what you're dealing with, but having conflicted feelings about something is _not_ an excuse to hand me off a magically enhanced motorcycle with barely a second of warning."

The King of Knights winced like a scolded child. "You cannot deny that this was almost certainly an emergency of unprecedented scale. Nevertheless, I am sorry, master." She closed her eyes a moment and then gazed at Rin like the fierce king she was. "I swear, from this point forward, I will put you and Shirou first, as both a Servant and a knight should. As I should have already."

"You should probably measure that vow," Karna advised. "If your Master cares enough to comfort you on your own feelings, it is unlikely that she wishes for you to close yourself off to them. She cares for the person you are after all, not the weapon you could be."

Arturia's eyes widened. She looked to her Master with glistening green eyes, touched.

Rin on the other hand, was beet red. She glared at Lancer furiously.

"Hey! Just who do you think you are? You don't just butt into people's private conversations like that, jerk!"

"My apologies. Though, if you wished for your words to be private, perhaps you should not have shouted them in our current location."

"Excuse me!"

"What is going on here?" Gordes roared. He pointed angrily to Rin and Arturia. "Who are you? Why did you call that Servant of yours Saber? _I_ wield Saber, so you can't unless… unless you are a Master of Red! But… but then why did you attack Lancer?"

The Yggdmillenia smirked gloatingly. "Could it be that you Mage's Association dogs are already turning on each other? How pitiful."

"Actually, no." The boy with red hair walked up next to Rin and Arturia. "Sorry for the confusion, but we aren't affiliated with the Red Faction at all. We're an independent third—"

"Shirou!" Rin whined. "You weren't supposed to tell them that. The Yggdmillenia didn't know. We could have had him worried about Lancer of Red teaming up with us."

"Lancer was trying to kill Ruler. Why would we team up with him when he was trying to hurt someone who protects the innocent?"

Jeanne smiled at Shirou's query. Not only because he stood up in favor of her, but because of his genuine concern for the innocents that she protected. It was a rare thing for a modern magus to care for those uninvolved in their work and the Saint was glad to see that compassion had not died out completely.

However…

"I cannot aid you in this fight," she informed all parties, Gordes and Rin's mouths both dropping in shock. "Lancer of Red making reckless threats against my life and a battle between him and the Sabers of the other factions are two completely separate matters. As Ruler, I must remain impartial in such events unless they threaten the sanctity of the war itself."

"But, Lancer just tried to assassinate you!" Gordes protested. He glared at Rin's group. "And this so called third faction's arrival is too precise to be mere coincidence. They must be in on the plot."

Shirou narrowed his eyes at the other master. "I would _never_ try to kill someone who protects innocent people."

"Indeed," Arturia concurred. "The mere suggestion of using such despicable tactics is an insult to my Masters' honor. You would be wise to keep such thoughts to yourself in the future, _mage_."

Rin snorted. "Unlike _some people_ , we don't need to try to cheat others to get what we want, Yggdmillenia."

"You… You dare!" Gordes whirled to his Servant, a vein pulsing in his forehead. "Saber! Kill them! Slaughter Lancer of Red and this interloper!"

Siegfried raised his sword but made no attempt to advance on either Karna or Arturia. A wise decision, since to move on one would have meant showing his back to the other, and as his legend went, that was where his weak point lay.

"A third faction? Intriguing. Though it would have made little difference even if you were allies," Karna remarked. His gaze concentrated on both his opponents. "Your eyes, both of you possess eyes quite similar to a man I once knew. A man who was undeniably a great hero. To meet not one, but two foes approaching his caliber… This battle was not mere coincidence. It was predestined."

With a flourish, his entire form lit up with the brilliant flames of a crimson star. "My name is Karna, Son of the Sun God," he declared proudly. "If you do not fear my lance, then fight me."

"I am the wandering knight of the Netherlands. I am Siegfried," Saber of Black responded dutifully.

"I am—"

"Saber don't you dare!"

"But Rin," Arturia turned on her master with pleading eyes. "They have both divulged their true names. I am honor bound to follow suit."

"I did not grant you my name as a means of coercing you into doing the same," Karna informed them. "If your Master forbids you, then your first loyalty should be to her, not me. Do you concur, Saber of Black?"

Siegfried nodded wordlessly.

The King of Knights frowned. "Still, you have both been highly accommodating. It would be disgraceful of me to not grant you some manner of referring to me."

"Your traditional class title will suffice," Karna assured her. "Though, even that will require the name of your faction."

Rin froze, her eyebrows shooting up in trepidation. "Our name?" she squeaked out.

"That seems reasonable enough," Saber concluded. "Do I have your permission, Master?"

"No! That is completely out of the question! Just call her Saber!"

"Are you deliberately trying to cause trouble?!" squawked Gordes.

"You surely realize that such a careless arrangement will cause some confusion, as they are both Sabers," Karna pointed out.

Rin growled at the Lancer, but crossed her arms in embarrassed worry.

Jeanne didn't understand why. Sure, it was not what one would consider a traditional faction color, but she could think of no real reason to withhold it.

"What's the harm, Tohsaka?" Shirou asked. "They were going to find out eventually."

Rin grit her teeth, but after a few seconds under Shirou's gaze, her resolve crumbled. "Fine. Fine, use the name."

Arturia smiled gratefully. "Thank you, master. I promise, I will do you proud."

"Tohsaka?" Gordes mumbled under his breath. "That's impossible."

The King of Knights raised her invisible sword and proudly faced her fellow heroes. "Heroic Spirits of Black and Red, I wish you good fortune in the war to come. Tonight, you face Servant Saber of the Periwinkle Faction!"

For some reason Jeanne could not fathom, Rin wailed towards the sky.

* * *

 **And so the war begins.**

 **Arturia and Mordred is always one of my favorite relationships to examine and here is no different. The two of them are going to do a lot of circling before they meet, but my god is it going to be fun.**

 **Rin shows her strength of character and common sense in not letting vengeance consume her in the mater of Darnic, while Shirou shows why Rin/ Shirou is my personal Fate OTP.**

 **And Karna and Sigfried show up! I love the former so much and I look forward to diving into the latter a bit more that canon was able to in this story. Especially the whole dragonslayer versus Saber, who has dragon essence, thing.**

 **Thank you for Reading! I hope you enjoy what comes next!**

 **Go Forth and Conquer!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Apologies for the tardiness of this chapter. Draconic's computer was damaged and lost the document halfway through. He worked his butt off fixing it back up and did an absolutely stupendous job!**

 **Please enjoy the chapter of June!**

 **P a treon: p a Treon.(c om) (backslash) themaster4444**

 **Beta-ed by Draconic**

* * *

The situation was a familiar one. Beings of ancient legend and unfathomable power pitted against them, with only Saber standing between them and complete annihilation. Shirou felt the same dread that he'd felt back in the burning Einzbern Manor, facing down Gilgamesh.

The most glaring difference was probably that Gordes guy's raucous laughter. Gilgamesh would have slaughtered him for doing that in his presence.

Shirou cocked an eyebrow. "Really? Periwinkle? That's it? What were you so embarrassed about Tohsaka? …Tohsaka?"

He turned to see Rin sagged and slumped over. She lamely raised her arm and pointed to the laughing Gordes.

Shirou scratched his head. "I still don't get it."

"Periwinkle? The _Periwinkle Faction?!_ " Gordes chortled. "That may very well be the single most ridiculous thing I've heard in years! This… this has to be a joke. Periwinkle! _Tohsaka!_ " he erupted into another boisterous fit of laughter.

Ruler cringed at the Master of Black's crude behavior. Still, she turned to Shirou, and shrugged. "It is certainly a more… unorthodox choice."

Saber scowled. "Unorthodox or not, it is my standard, and that of my Masters. I will not tolerate you disparaging their honor by mocking it."

"Well said," Lancer of Red declared. His voice was soft, mellow to the point of seeming disinterested. Yet Shioru felt a power in his words, a conviction, that he had not felt since Saber herself had first appeared before him in the moonlight. "Periwinkle is as fine a color as Red or Black, as worthy of being borne by the heroes of your faction. It is not as succinct to speak, true, but that matters little." He raised his spear, "In the end, the only thing that matters is that you prove yourself, and your faction, worthy of the color, however you choose to do so."

Saber of Black nodded in agreement. He looked like he wanted to do more, open his mouth and speak, but he paused just as he opened his lips. He glanced back at his still chortling master, and in the end held his silence.

Shirou surmised that he concurred with Lancer, but some previous order from his Master kept him silent. That was alright, but it seemed silly of the mage to keep his Servant from even speaking. He was the one with actual combat experience after all, his tactical input would be invaluable.

Saber smiled openly at Lancer. "I thank you, Hero of Charity. Your words do you credit, and I hope I can live up to them."

"I have little doubt you will," Karna assured her. "No hero who needs to hide their weapon to conceal their identity is likely to be lacking in worth. Indeed, if your sword is so recognizable, it is likely you rank among the greatest heroic spirits within the Throne. I look forward to our battle."

Saber blinked in surprise and then refocused herself on the Lancer. "As do I. The fact that you can discern the purpose of my Invisible Air speaks well of your combative intuition."

"It is merely common sense. Come now, let us begin."

Both Sabers nodded.

Shirou quickly analyzed the enemies' weapons, his Reality Marble easily processing Siegfried's massive greatsword and armor, as well as Karna's more subtle armaments. This only heightened the shock of the disparity between their powers.

' _Saber,'_ he spoke through Rin's gem link. _'Siegfried's sword is Balmung, a Rank A+ Anti-Army Noble Phantasm, but it has a history of slaying dragons, so it might be even stronger against you. His armor, the Armor of Fafnir, can't be pierced by any attack with equal or less strength than Rank B, and it will take that much power away from any assault greater than that.'_

 _"In other words, even my strongest blows will glance off as though they were mere scratches,"_ Saber mentally lamented. _"It sounds as though he's like Heracles but with the Dragon attribute. I can only hope that his skill with a sword isn't as masterful."_

' _Well, fortunately for you, unlike Heracles, you only have to kill this guy once, but you probably knew that already. And he does have a pretty glaring weakness,'_ Shirou encouraged her. _'There should be an oak leaf-shaped mark on his back. If you can land a strike there, he'll go down fast.'_

 _"Excellent. This information will be most helpful, Shirou. Thank you,"_ she praised him. _"What of Lancer?"_

Shirou hesitated, as he looked at Lancer of Red with growing anxiety. _'All of his equipment is comprised of divine constructs. I can barely analyze them, much less trace them. That golden armor is basically sunlight conceptualized as a defensive ability. It's virtually impenetrable, and is apparently fused with his body. Supposedly, it's so hard to penetrate that even a god would struggle with it._

' _His spear though… it's just_ _insane_ _. It's called Vasavi Shakti. Basically, I can already feel its power from here,_ _and it's sealed right now_ _. Fortunately, it looks like the only way for him to unlock its true power is to permanently destroy his armor, and the attack that comes of that can only be used once, so it's unlikely that he'll use it at such an early stage in the war. If he does though, run. Its full strength isn't even on the same scale as anything I've ever seen._ "

 _"Hmm, troubling, but with Avalon inside me, I should able to handle him. Hopefully."_

' _I wouldn't count on that, Saber. If his armor vanishes, just retreat. There's no doubt that he's the cause of that heat wave a few minutes ago, and I can't imagine what would happen if that kind of attack was made even hotter. The air will probably catch fire. Honestly, there might not even be a safe distance we can get to within the time it takes him to make that attack.'_

 _"Not reassuring… I suppose I'll just need to exercise caution."_

' _Be careful, Saber.'_

 _"Thank you, Shirou. Rin, will you be alright?"_

' _Periwinkle. Why, master? They'll never stop laughing now…'_

 _"…I will do you proud, Master."_

Saber, Karna, and Siegfried all dashed towards each other, the pavement of the road quaking beneath their steps. When their weapons met, the shockwave of the clash was so great it was if a volcano had erupted right there. Shirou had to brace himself to avoid being blow away by the burning gale that cascaded outward from their duel. He caught sight of both Rin and Gordes doing the same, with only Ruler seeming unfazed by the blast.

None of the three Servants had any desire to sully their battle with the collateral death of a Master, so they quickly moved into the vast mountains to the side of the road. Of course, said mountains immediately exploded into complete chaos, centuries old rock faces casually being obliterated by the backlash of ferocious slashes with the power to decimate cities. Despite reinforcing his eyes, the distance and the Servants' incredible speed meant that Shirou could barely keep up with the action.

' _So, this is what Saber can do at full power,'_ he thought in awe. She'd spent most of their war handicapped by having him as a Master or being captured by Caster, and even when Rin had been able to actually supply her with prana, she was still without Avalon and so unable to fight in the same league she was meant to. Now she was free of those restraints.

' _Indeed,'_ Rin concurred mentally, seemingly having recovered from her breakdown. _'There's a reason why King Arthur is commonly considered the strongest sword wielding heroic spirit.'_

"Master of Red!"

Shirou and Rin turned towards Gordes, who stared at them viciously, but also with a hint of pride in his eyes.

"Didn't we just go through the fact that we are not part of the Red Faction?" Rin sighed. "Seriously, Yggdmillenia, pay attention."

Gordes chuckled. "Oh, I did. I listened as you recited that little spiel of yours. And I also deduced that it is _completely ridiculous!_ The Greater Grail is taxed as it is providing enough _prana_ for the fourteen Servants plus the Ruler. It is beyond the realm of possibility that it could have the power remaining to allow a third faction to join. It would take a mage of unfathomable power just to get close!"

' _Does it count as unfathomable if he uses it for just about everything?'_ Shirou wondered, recalling some of the stories Rin had told him about a few of her master's lessons.

' _He's also used it to save the world on more than one occasion,'_ Rin added. _'So, unfortunately, yes.'_

"Which leads me to the truth of the matter!" Gordes continued, oblivious to their silent exchange, raising his hand to point a sausage-like index finger at them: "You _are_ actually members of the Red Faction!" he proclaimed with all his boisterous pride. "Likely Berserker or Rider, attempting to put Saber off guard so you can stab him in the back! Well, it won't work, Saber is stronger than you could possibly imagi—"

"You are mistaken, Master of Black," Ruler corrected. "They are indeed the Periwinkle Faction. I do not know how the Greater Grail was able to call their Servant, but they are indeed a separate entity from the Red Faction."

"Wha- _What?_ " Gordes stuttered.

Rin sighed. "Don't you have a brain between those ears, Yggdmillenia? Seriously, why would a hero as sincere as Karna need such a convoluted tactic? Moreover, how would his honor even allow it?"

"Silence!" Gordes blustered, his face bright red, either from fury or embarrassment. "A Servant is nothing more than a tool! A weapon to be wielded by a mage! If his Master commanded it, he would throw aside his honor in an instant!"

Shirou narrowed his eyes at the obese man. The Servants weren't tools, they were heroes. People who had earned their place in history (granted, not always by the most admirable of means), who had earned the highest respect of all. To deride them so contemptuously… it was repulsive. He did have to admit though, Servants were bound to the wills of their Masters. Gordes was right about that much, if nothing else.

"Ugh, you are _pitiful_ ," Rin scoffed. "With that attitude, either you or your Servant will be dead soon enough."

A vein in Gordes forehead burst. "How dare you? I am a Master of Yggdmillenia! The greatest mage of the Musik family!"

Rin raised a cocky eyebrow, careful to hide any curiosity behind a veil of disinterest. "Who?"

" _Argh!_ " Gordes raised his fists. Magic circuits flared to life over them. "I tolerated it as a joke, but to actually take this idiocy seriously?! You disgust me! You dare ask me who I am after naming yourselves with the express intention of insulting the other Masters?"

"Yeeeeah, we didn't—"

"Come then, Master of _Periwinkle_ ," he interrupted, spitting the word out like he was allergic to it. "Let us battle as true mages should!"

Rin's eyebrow twitched at the mention of their color but in the end, she smirked. "Well, at least you're not a coward. Very well." She raised her arm and braced it for a level shot. Her finger started to glow with black and red energy. "I'll show you what a mage who's worked for their power looks like!"

Shirou raised his hand. "Tohsaka, wait!"

She glared at him. "What, Shirou?"

"Let me fight him."

"Seriously? Are you really playing the chivalry card _now_ of all times?" She glared daggers at him. "Shirou, I can handle him."

"I know," he assured her. "But please let me take care of this."

' _You have a limited number of gems,'_ he reminded her telepathically. _'If this guy is tougher than he looks, that'll cost us resources we need to conserve for the future. Let me handle him and then no one needs to lose anything.'_

Rin did not soften her furious gaze, but she lowered her arm, convinced by his logic. "You better not mess this up, you idiot."

Shirou flashed her an apologetic smirk. "I'll do my best."

Rin sighed and took a step back.

Gordes glowered. "So, you won't even fight me yourself? You coward! _How dare you!_ I didn't nearly die obtaining my catalyst so I could face some inexperienced boy!"

"You know, this just tilts the scales in your favor," Shirou said pointedly. "If anything, your odds of survival are much better against me."

Not that Rin wasn't just as capable a combatant as him but, despite her compassion, she had no issues killing a dangerous opponent at the first opportunity. While the argument he gave her was true, he also wanted to handle the fight himself so there was a better chance of claiming victory without killing Gordes. He had accepted that the Servants only existed for the war, and that killing them was an utterly dreadful necessity of carrying out the ritual, but he refused to allow a Master who still had his whole life—or… well, most of it—ahead of him to die. Not if he could help it. He suspected Rin understood that.

The Yggdmillenia mage apparently did not, and he charged at Shirou with a roar.

The man was an egotistical buffoon, not some evil mastermind. No need to start the death toll with him.

Shirou held out his hands in Archer's familiar stance. His expression clearly exhibiting his focus. _"Trace on."_

Kanshou and Bakuya flared to life in his grip and he met Gordes' attack. He could already tell that this was going to be far too easy.

* * *

 _ **FATEFATEFATEFATEFATEFATE**_

Razor wind sheared past Karna's face as he danced across the steadily crumbling mountainside.

He had thought it odd when the priest had informed him of his Master's command to eliminate Ruler, but he had obliged as their contract demanded. If the mage wished to remove the arbiter from the war, that was his plan to worry about. Karna's duty was merely to serve as the tool to carry it out.

He had anticipated a swift battle. Though Rulers received substantial boosts to their usual parameters, the Hero of Charity had possessed no doubt that he could still overwhelm whoever they were with the spear gifted to him by his brother's father, Indra, the King of Heaven and God of Thunder. Even Jeanne D'Arc's possession of Command Spells simply meant that he could not afford to hold back and give her the chance to use them.

Then the Sabers had arrived. The warriors with eyes like his brother's. True heroes.

No matter what factions they claimed in their titles, he knew that they would prove to be worthy foes.

He was not disappointed.

He was faster than them both, that much was obvious, but each possessed skill with their swords the likes of which he had never seen, enabling them to easily hold their own.

Saber of Black, Siegfried, focused mostly on offensive maneuvers, an opulent blue-green glow radiating from his sword with each ferocious strike. Each swing left him a bit open but delivered enough power that direct blocking would have been ill advised, forcing Karna to deflect the attack outwards or into the path of the other combatant. His armor could most likely take the attacks with ease, but there was no reason to be careless in a Grail War. His opponent's supposed invincibility was proof of that, as both he and their other foe had already dealt the man numerous light wounds, though one wouldn't know by the vitality of his sword work.

Really, he should have expected no less from a knight who had had the will to slay a dragon and then wear its near invulnerable essence as armor. Though, the fact that his wide swings left so little room to strike was testament that the knight's grand skill had not been diluted by his triumphs. And that could be one of the greatest trials in life, to not be defeated by your own victory. Siegfried's vigilance was truly a boon supporting his nature as a worthy hero.

The other, the Saber of Periwinkle, was a different sort of curiosity. No less magnificent, but almost contradictory.

Her skill with a blade was unmistakable, perhaps a bit less than Siegfried's, but only by the slimmest of margins if that. She was more balanced however, holding her defense close like a lion on the prowl. But when an opening presented itself, she pounced, unleashing a burst of prana that accelerated her movement by a fierce margin and gifting her with even greater strength than her already tremendous power allowed. Were she facing any other opponents, she likely would have obliterated them.

Unfortunately for her, Karna was far from an average opponent, possessing his own Prana Burst that enveloped his surroundings in a torrent of flames. That technique enabled him enough of a distraction to either divert her blow to be nullified by his armor, Kavacha and Kundala, or dodge altogether.

Siegfried seemed to be another matter. It was strange, but whenever his focus was on trading blows with the other Saber, it was if his strength and speed were boosted tremendously, to the extent that it almost appeared as though he had been fortified by a Command Seal. His enhancement was such that Saber of Periwinkle was continuously on the defensive when she could not put Karna between them. And when even that failed, she felt the sting of the other knight's blade.

Yet, no matter what wounds Siegfried or Karna himself scored on their foe, the moment after they struck, whatever damage they had caused would glow and then vanish completely. Saber of Periwinkle's skin would be unblemished, not even showing signs of being singed by Karna's flames.

It was not invulnerability like Saber of Black's defense, which was difficult to pierce and lessened the impact of the few attacks that did. No, the blows were landing with their full power, and they wounded with their full power. Saber of Periwinkle was simply healing so fast that the cuts didn't matter.

Hmm… Siegfried's increase in power did not seem to come from a Noble Phantasm, at least not an obvious one. It could have been a personal skill, but that still seemed unlikely

Perhaps there was something in their legends? Heroic Spirits were often shaped just as much by the stories told of them as they were by the actual people they were in life. So, if there were something in each of the Sabers' backgrounds that interacted with each other by logical extension, it could theoretically increase Siegfried's strength circumstantially whenever they clashed. Karna was admittedly no expert on the Germanic knight's legend, but he knew enough to understand that there was only one aspect of the man that could possibly influence him so greatly without manifesting as a Noble Phantasm: his status as a dragon slayer.

Which suggested that Saber of Periwinkle was in turn heavily linked with dragons.

A strong connection with dragons.

The power to regenerate wounds almost instantaneously.

A sword recognizable enough on its own to require concealment.

And according to the insight his Discernment of the Poor skill granted to him during her master's earlier rant, a complex relationship with her child.

A child who was also worthy enough to be summoned from the Throne of Heroes.

Despite himself and the furious battle he was in the midst of, Karna couldn't help but smile.

Each of those factors on their own could apply to any number of heroes in The Throne. But together they, along with her knightly chivalry, painted quite the clear portrait of the mysterious Saber of Periwinkle.

Truly, he was blessed to be called to this Great Holy Grail War.

* * *

 _ **FATEFATEFATEFATEFATEFATE**_

Rin frowned as she observed the explosions from the Servants' battle. No matter how many wonders she saw, she'd never feel at ease when her friends battled Heroic Spirits. The titans of legend were more like forces of nature than mere familiars. And even if Saber stood near the top of them all, her opponents were hardly lacking in stature. Or the skill to back it up.

Siegfried, the Dragon Slaying Knight of the Netherlands. She'd expected the Einzberns to use him if they tried to get the Saber class. Other than the King of Knights, he was one of the most noteworthy sword wielding heroes in the world, with a sword bigger than most people were tall and nearly invulnerable to boot. Not to mention the dragon slaying aspects of his legends made him a poor match up for Saber in the first place. If they hadn't recovered Avalon, they'd be at a massive disadvantage.

Even still, the most serious problem was certainly Karna. In her research into the Throne of Heroes in preparation for her own war, she'd sifted through hundreds of myths and legends, trying to discern who the most powerful warriors would be as either allies or adversaries. Of all of them, the Hero of Charity was thought to be more powerful than almost all others. And by 'almost all', it meant only his eternal rival Arjuna and Gilgamesh, plus a handful of other ancient demigods, were thought to be able to fight him on even ground.

Though, every text she located advised against actually summoning him as a Servant. Apparently, the downside to his astronomical power was that it required an absolutely absurd amount of _prana_ to power him. Any Master, even a first rate mage like herself, would be sucked dry if he fought at full power for even a minute.

That was good. That meant that even if Saber couldn't get past his armor, she could just keep the fight going and outlast his Master. After that, she only had to hold off Siegfried until Shirou dealt with Gordes.

Though, as the night—and the battle—dragged on, and Karna didn't seem to waver in the slightest, Rin's scowl could only deepen. Why wasn't he dropping? Maybe the Black Faction could conceivably have prepared some method of giving their Servants additional stores of _prana_ , but the Red Faction had been thrown together in a matter of weeks. Who the hell was Karna's Master that they had such ridiculous stores of magical energy?

"Ah!"

Rin turned back to the duel on the road and smirked. At least something was going their way.

Shirou and Gordes stood a few feet apart from each other, the latter clutching his bleeding arm just above the elbow.

The Master of Black panted hard as sweat rained down his brow. "Lucky shot, bastard. You won't get another."

Rin rolled her eyes.

Honestly, he wasn't even that bad, at least compared to other arrogant snobs she'd encountered. Despite what little she knew of the Musik Family's lackluster reputation, it was clear he had talent. Transmuting his limbs into metal to amplify their reinforcement was actually quite the clever application of commonly non-combat alchemy. Add that to his unexpectedly respectable hand-to-hand display, and it seemed his boasts actually had some substance behind them, in contrast to say, Shinji.

The only issue was he up against Shirou, who was faster, stronger, younger, better suited to close combat, and frankly hadn't even broken a sweat the entire time.

Not only was her boyfriend wielding a pair potent Noble Phantasms, but during his confrontation with Archer, he had absorbed his future self's fighting skills. That meant every slash, every riposte, every technique that the Heroic Spirit EMIYA had developed and honed over his countless eons as a Counter Guardian, was at Shirou's command. Add in the drawn-out confrontation's strain on Gordes' limited endurance, and it was generous to call the encounter a fight. The only reason Shirou hadn't ended it already was that he hoped the Yggdmillenia mage would be easier to pacify if he was exhausted.

Rin doubted that would be the case, but at least maintaining his metal limbs would put a substantial strain on the obese man's _prana_ reserves. The constant taxation had already made him slip long enough for Shirou to draw first blood. Keeping the defense up across his entire body would further expedite his defeat.

Shirou tossed Bakuya at Gordes, the Yggdmillenia mage barely moving in time to dodge, the black blade soaring past his large body.

"Getting reckless after a lucky blow? That's a foolish mistake, boy!" the Master of Black growled. He grinned as green light flooded his magic circuits with renewed vigor. "It will be your last."

Shirou shook his head. He lowered Kanshou to his hip. "Trust me, I've made more mistakes than you could possibly know. And if you don't stand down, I'll have to make another."

"Fearing for your life that much?" Gordes taunted.

"No. For yours," Shirou smirked, his confidence so firm that it made the atmosphere almost oppressive. "Because what I just did wasn't a mistake."

Gordes' eyebrow barely had time to rise in confusion before his face went wide with equal parts shock and pain. His crumpled to his knee as Bakuya flew into the back of his leg, drawn towards its mystical link with Kanshou.

Shirou traced another Bakuya and charged forward. A moment later, he held the married blades at Gordes' throat.

"Surrender," he commanded with a voice of stone. "I don't want to take this any further. If you do, you can go home after the Servants have finished their battle."

Gordes' eyes twitched madly, his throat unable to shake lest it be cut by the swords at his throat. "You… you… I could have Saber destroy you in an instant!"

Rin snorted. "Unless you use a Command Seal, I don't think he could get away from that mess without exposing his weak spot."

"What? How do you know about that?!"

"He told us who he is, you idiot," Rin rolled her eyes. "Only an idiot would go into a Grail War without studying up on the most well-known heroes in the world."

' _But Rin, didn't we know because I analyzed—'_

' _Yes, you idiot! But he doesn't know that!'_

' _Point taken.'_

"If you want to take an appallingly foolish risk to take out a mage that isn't even a Master, you can go right ahead," Rin lectured with a condescending grin. "At best, you'd waste a Command Seal. At worst, you'll lose your Servant altogether. I'm sure Darnic will be _so_ pleased at that kind of buffoonery."

Gordes' eyes froze at the mention of his leader. Good to know Darnic's own faction was well aware of the danger he posed. It was a fifty-fifty shot from what Zelretch's letter had mentioned about his political skills that he might have hidden his sins from the rest of Yggdmillenia, but it seemed they either didn't care or had been cowed into obedience. For Gordes, it appeared to be the latter.

Sweat rolled down the large man's brow. "You… you'll kill me anyway. Or worse."

"If we wanted to do that, we would have already," Rin pointed out. "I mean, you're good. Perfectly competent as a mage really. But, well, put bluntly, you're just plain outgunned."

Gordes' face started falling back into his furious scowl, but a short glance at the swords at his throat, dipped that down. He steeled himself into a hard stare. "If you expect me to be your pawn, you can forget about it! I am a Master of Black. You will never turn me against Yggdmillenia."

"That's fine," Shirou told him flatly. "We can't ask you to betray your allies."

"Oh yes we _can!_ " Rin protested. "We need all the information we can get!"

"You'll get _nothing_ from me!" Gordes roared. "I am the head of the Musik Family! I will never stain my honor as a mage by betraying my faction to the likes of vulgar interlopers like you, _Periwinkle!_ "

Rin's eye twitched unsettlingly. "Say Periwinkle one…more…time… dough boy…"

"Okaaaay, let's all keep our heads," Shirou interjected quickly, oblivious to the fact that he could take Gordes at any time. He fixed the Master of Black with a hard stare. "Yggdmillenia, if you swear not to attack us, and help us defeat Lancer of Red, we'll let you go home to fight another day."

Gordes raised an eyebrow. "Why would you trust an enemy just like that?"

"You just said you valued your honor? Was that a lie?"

The large man grumbled into his mustache. "How can I trust you to keep your word? Why wouldn't you attack me as soon as Lancer was dealt with?"

"Because I don't want to kill you."

From anyone else, that would have sounded utterly absurd. From the mouth of Shirou Emiya, it was like gospel itself. Even someone like Gordes, who didn't know him, would feel the conviction of fact behind those words.

Indeed, the Master of Black stared at him in shock for several seconds. He gulped in horror, before nodding slightly, as much as he could manage with the blades at his throat.

Shirou immediately removed his swords from his throat and backed away, though the fool was smart enough to keep them out. He did dissipate the Bakuya in Gordes' leg, letting the mage fall to the ground with a gasp. He clutched the back of his leg in agony, but the limb flared with the light of magic circuits, probably working double time to activate whatever healing magic Gordes' possessed.

' _Tohsaka, is this arrangement okay with you?'_ Shirou inquired.

Rin thought about it for a moment but nodded in the end. Even with Avalon, Karna was not an enemy to take lightly. If they could redirect the sizable threat Siegfried posed towards him, then they might be able to eliminate the Indian demigod before he inevitably became a problem later on. After that, they'd figure out what to do with the Black Master. If he tried to have Siegfried attack them, Rin was confident that even if Saber couldn't beat him, she could hold him off while she and Shirou dealt with Gordes.

And there would be no second mercy.

 _'Saber,'_ she reached out telepathically, _'Change of plans.'_

* * *

 _ **FATEFATEFATEFATEFATEFATE**_

' _Shirou has convinced Saber of Black's master to help us. Defend yourself if Siegfried doesn't get the message in time, but focus on Karna.'_

 _"Understood, master,"_ Saber responded quickly, before barely deflecting a powerful thrust from Karna's spear, the strike's razor wind flashing by her to reduce a stone outcropping on the mountain behind her to sand.

Lancer of Red had proven himself to be just as great a challenge as his massive power level had telegraphed. If anything, the prior heat wave had been underselling him. Not that you could tell by looking at the man. Unlike Gilgamesh who had flaunted his power, Karna only exuded however much strength was needed for any given task, with an air of calm detachment surrounding him otherwise. To call his poker face perfect was a severe understatement. If a man's intent was in his eyes, this was a man who could skewer an opponent without showing the first sign of aggression. Problematic when he moved so fast that she could barely see him act. He'd landed far too many strikes against her already. If she didn't have Avalon healing her wounds, she didn't know how long she would have lasted against him.

Nevertheless, she needed to be careful. Her scabbard was powerful, but the divine construct was not without flaw. While it could surround her as an impenetrable fortress, that action would also prevent her from moving or counterattacking, creating a waiting game that she could not play. The regeneration was far more practical for active combat, revitalizing her each time an opponent landed a blow, regardless of its severity. Save for one glaring weak spot: Despite its miraculous abilities, the sheathe could not heal a wound dealt to her brain. Despite making her nearly invulnerable, she still possessed the most crucial weakness of any other living thing.

To prevent her adversaries from discovering this crucial fact, she employed her defensive maneuvers as usual, parrying every strike so they would not notice any special preference for her head. The tactic seemed to be working, both her foes launched attacks at her entire body. Unfortunately, that left her in a precarious position, dealing with onslaughts from both mighty heroes.

And while Karna was certainly a being to be viewed in the highest respect and gravest fear, it was Siegfried who terrified her most.

Even bloodied from the dozens of light wounds dealt to him by both her and Lancer, the Dragon-Blooded Knight stood as a towering presence on the mountainside battlefield. While the sheer size of his sword should have handicapped him, prevented him from using the complex maneuvers she herself favored, he had proven that notion completely false the moment they clashed. While his techniques were not as elaborate as those commonly found at the Round Table, they were far from the simple, yet powerful blows so often associated with greatswords. Power that should have required wide, sweeping arcs was found in quick, brutal slashes, all backed by a heavy and razor sharp blade that had pierced dragon scales.

Truly, it was swordsmanship that had long surpassed mankind. Only from Lancelot and Heracles had she ever seen a comparable display.

Still, she defeated them both. Or in the case of Heracles, just survived. But one had to remind oneself that not being reduced to bloody paste against one of the greatest heroes to ever live was basically the height of what anyone could hope to achieve against him. And she had one twelfth of a kill on him, that was more than most of his other opponents could claim. And if she could do that, then she could conquer her latest foe just as she had so many others.

At least, hopefully.

Unlike her old opponents, Siegfried was a Dragon Slayer, quite the problem for one with draconic blood such as herself. Lancelot had driven her to the brink with just Arondight, a dragon slaying sword in its own right. And Siegfried's name alone had practically become synonymous with the term 'dragon slayer.' Few dragons were more famous than Fafnir, after all. The difference between the strength of his blows against Karna and against her was immediately noticeable, even if the forms used were exactly the same. She couldn't rule out that a direct blow from Balmung at full power might even be able to kill her outright, despite Avalon's regeneration. She hoped she'd never need to test that theory.

Still, she was the King of Knights for a reason.

She parried Siegfried's next blow off to her side and followed through with a riposte, driving him back just far enough to allow her to attain a more advantageous position, with both her foes in sight.

All three of them stood stalwart in the burning ruins of the mountainside, their weapons raised for the continuing fight. If the trio hadn't been Heroic Spirits of the highest caliber, they likely would have been panting from exhaustion. As things stood, they were barely warmed up.

Saber eyed her opponents evenly, though her eyes subtly drifted to Siegfried. According to Rin, the knight's Master had agreed to a temporary alliance. But had he been informed yet? He clearly hadn't been when he'd launched his last attack.

Soft green light began to dance across Siegfried's form, healing the various light scratches and shallow cuts he'd received, the only proof of the Rank A attacks she and Karna had fought to land through the Armor of Fafnir. Clearly, his master had recovered enough to heal those.

"It is unwise to concentrate on only one foe when there are others present."

Saber bolted back, Excalibur shifting to intercept Karna's strike, the tip of his spear already inches from her forehead. She'd dropped her guard for an instant, lost her focus for but a moment, and with the speed of the sun's rays, the Hero of Charity had made to end her. Perhaps her blade was fast enough to catch the attack before it landed, perhaps it was not.

She'd never have to find out.

Siegfried leapt out and smashed the golden spear into the ground, the stone beneath it crumpling like paper. Smiling at her newfound ally, Saber vaulted over the dragon slayer's back and raised her sword to bring down her blade on the Lancer of Red.

That's when Karna spoke.

" _Oh, Agni…"_

The power was like a match was struck and ignited a sun. Saber activated her own Prana Burst and dashed away as fast as she could, Siegfried right behind her.

Behind them, a conflagration of unparalleled brilliance erupted from the air around Karna's body, lighting up the night sky like an infant dawn, an ironic comparison considering the faint glow beginning to shine behind the hills.

When both Sabers turned around to face their common foe, the pale skinned man calmly emerged from the ashes of the mountainside he'd all but melted, the three now face to face on a smooth plain, the ground beneath him turned having been turned to glass.

Saber tightened her grip on her invisible sword. Even with an alliance and the element of surprise, he'd still fended them off so easily. Truly, the Hero of Charity was a hero in the same class of the King of Heroes.

Karna idly glanced between them both, a smile ghosting across his lips. "As impromptu alliances go, that was quite a marvelous first attempt. If you had used your Noble Phantasm in that moment, so close and without my spear to meet it, Saber of Periwinkle, you may have been able to injure me."

Saber seethed at his words. Not at their nature, no. She sensed they were meant in earnest praise, despite their apparent taunting attribute. No, what aggravated her was that he seemed to be confident he knew what her Noble Phantasm was.

How could he know? Was it a bluff? Or had he figured out her identity? No, she'd given no clues to her True Name.

Had she?

"Nonetheless…" Lancer continued. He raised his divine spear. "Whether you fight me united or divided, you shall not have the advantage in this battle."

Siegfried raised his shoulders, his massive blade ready for combat. A barely perceptible grin played at the corners of his mouth.

Despite herself, Saber could not help but mirror it. After all, as frustrating as her opponents may have been, they both fought with honor and respect. It was a knight's greatest joy to face such worthy foes, and even if she refused to fail for Shirou and Rin's sakes, she could not help but find exquisite pleasure in the battle. It reminded her of her first duel with Diarmuid in the Fourth Grail War, before she'd been crushed by the weight of her own foolishness.

To the east, the first rays of sunlight began to creep over the hills, slinking across the battlefield.

Saber raised her invisible sword. "Tell me, Lancer. Do you indeed to prattle on until the sun falls once again? Or shall we settle this matter with our steel?"

Karna chuckled. "Not steel, Saber of Periwinkle. _Fire_."

Riving crimson flames consumed his spear. He pulled it behind his shoulder.

" **Brahmastra Kundal** —"

The flames extinguished as his words halted. The pale man sighed and lowered his weapon.

Saber raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Is there a problem?"

"No. My Master has simply ordered my return," Karna explained. "The Holy Grail War is supposed to be confined to the night after all, lest those outside the mage community become alerted to it."

Infuriating mage laws…

Still, it was a necessary precaution.

Saber lowered her weapon. Siegfried did the same.

"My only wish is that when next we all meet, we may fight to our hearts' content," Saber of Black decided.

Karna smirked. "Yes. That would be wonderful. I am deeply grateful that my first battle was against you, venerable Sabers. Whether separately or together once more, I hope to face you both again."

He said nothing else, and astralized, leaving nothing behind but a scattering of golden motes.

"Lancer of Red!" Ruler called out from the highway. "Do not leave yet!"

Her shout was too late. Karna was already gone.

Saber turned towards Siegfried. Her fellow Saber was at ease in her presence, likely expecting her to keep to the alliance until their masters said otherwise. The ghost of his soft smile still lingered on his face.

It was strange. From what Saber had observed, Siegfried was quite the stoic soul, maintaining his composure even in the heat of battle. Hell, the only times she had seen him speak were when he introduced himself to her and Karna and his proclamation at the end of their duel. Yet, it seemed the battle, in which he was the only one to have suffered any sort of wounds even briefly, had warmed his heart to contentment.

She smiled. She would look forward to their next battle as well.

Ruler and the masters walked towards the Servants.

"Marvelous. What a splendid battle," Ruler said, almost appraisingly. It was a little disconcerting how detached she seemed.

Saber looked at her masters, who walked up behind the mage of Yggdmillenia. Gordes? Was that his name?

Shirou smiled at her. "Well done, Saber."

Saber grinned and nodded. She looked to Rin, but her official Master merely breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed they were both highly aware of just how poorly that battle could have gone.

Gordes approached Ruler, his body shaking in terror as he subtly approached his own Servant. "Now that Lancer of Red is finally gone, will you please come with us to Millenia Citadel, Ruler?"

Ruler shook her head. "Negative. I must remain impartial."

"Yes…" Gordes made to protest, "but our lord's castle is a prime location for observing the Great Holy Grail War! Please?"

"I appreciate your concern," Ruler thanked. "But my skills allow me to perceive all of Trifas. So you need not worry."

Gordes trembled with fury, but seemed to accept Ruler's decision. "If you insist," he hissed through his teeth, the words almost sounding strangled. He turned to Rin and Shirou, glowering at them as he moved to stand behind his Servant. It wasn't a very dignified display.

The next few seconds elapsed in tense silence as the Masters stared each other down. Eventually, it was Shirou who broke the standoff.

"You're headed back to your castle now, right?" he asked. "Er, I don't mean that as a challenge; I just want to know if you'd rather continue where we left off? I'm pretty sure Saber is up for it, right?"

The last part was directed towards her, so she nodded. She raised her invisible sword towards Siegfried, who did the same with Balmung. She didn't think she could defeat him one on one, not if his Master healed whatever slight wounds he'd received, but with Avalon protecting her, she didn't think he could defeat her in a timely matter either. Which meant that all she would have to do is hold out until Shirou and Rin felled Gordes, and that was unlikely to take very long.

Judging from the portly mage's expression, he had come to a similar conclusion. He huffed, storming off to a black car parked on the shoulder of the highway, presumably how he'd arrived here in the first place. "Saber, let's go."

Siegfried nodded and bowed to both Arturia and Ruler.

Saber smiled and bowed her head in turn. "You've demonstrated that you are a knight of exemplary honor, Saber of Black, and your skill with a sword does you much credit. I hope to face you again in this Great Holy Grail War."

Siegfried smiled. "And I you, Saber of Periwinkle."

He turned away and joined his Master before vanishing in a shower of blue particles.

Behind her, Saber heard Rin mutter, "Huh. Not so bad when he says it."

"Master of Periwinkle," Ruler called. "I must speak with you."

Rin sagged. "And… it's ridiculous again," She sighed and faced the arbiter. "What do you need, Ruler?"

"Tell me, how is it you have entered this war as a third faction?" Ruler inquired.

"Zelretch decided to mess around with the ritual," Rin stated.

Ruler's eyes went wide. "The Kaleidoscope? Ah. Yes. I suppose that would be possible." She scratched her chin in thought. "Could his interference be the cause of my summoning? Or is he merely responding to the same threat as the Grail?"

"Threat?" Shirou asked, earnest as ever. "Is there something wrong with the war?"

She gazed at the three of them warily. In the end though, she sighed under Shirou's honest gaze. "There are… irregularities… in this Great Holy Grail War. While some are to be expected with the increased scale, others have proven disturbing. For instance, my summoning could not be completed in the traditional manner. This forced me to request assistance from a young girl named Laeticia and possess her body to perform my duties."

"Possession?!" Shirou gasped, his disposition changing abruptly. "You mean to say you're controlling her? How can you justify—?!"

Ruler smiled, unfazed by the sudden outburst. "I assure you, I would not have chosen this course of action had any other alternative been available to me. And I have her express permission. Be at ease. Your concern is appreciated, but you need not worry. The Grail has ensured the process has gone smoothly, and even should I fall, my spirit core will absorb any and all damage done to my host's body. Laeticia shall be safeguarded."

"Oh…" Shirou nodded, expressing some measure of relief. "That's… good…? I guess?" He let some of the hostility fade from his tone, but it was obvious he was still rather wary of this situation.

Saber smiled at her former Master's concern for the innocent girl. Though it could be a disadvantage at times, it was still no less chivalrous and endearing a quality.

Rin scrunched her brow in contemplation. "And now the Red Faction wants to eliminate you for some reason."

"Do you believe your teacher sent us with an alternative objective, Master?" Saber inquired.

Rin sighed. "Maybe? With him, it's pretty difficult to say anything for certain. He might have sent us to win the war, or to help Ruler. Maybe it's just because he wants to see how we react to all the differences in this timeline. He can be serious when he wants to be, but even when he is, he's rarely upfront."

A letter with Rin's name in familiar cursive _poofed_ out of thin air. Rin snatched it up before it could fall an inch and resignedly ripped it open.

"What does it say?" Shirou asked.

"' _You know me so well, dear apprentice,'_ " Rin read off disinterestedly. " _'But don't think this means you're getting spoilers. I'm playing my cards close to the chest on this one. But you should really give Ruler a ride to Trifas. There is someone there you all should meet.'_ "

Rin sighed. "A hint of who this someone is would helpful."

Ruler frowned. "I'm sorry. But I cannot travel with you any more that I could with the Black Faction. Despite the danger, I must remain impartial in this war."

Shirou nodded. "That makes sense. We can't ask you to betray your duty."

Another letter popped into existence, this one with the name Jeanne D'Arc scribbled in neat cursive. Ruler gingerly snatched the paper and opened it.

"' _I_ _can,'_ " Ruler read off. " _'However, I get the impression that I won't need to. You should be getting a revelation in three, two…'_ wait, how would— Urgh."

Ruler, apparently Jeanne D'Arc, clutched her head in pain for a moment, a soft white light filling her eyes. Saber made to steady her, but she was fine after a moment.

"Are you alright?" Saber inquired.

Ruler nodded. "Yes. It's just…" she glanced worriedly at Shirou.

The boy raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

Ruler paused a moment. "As a class skill, Rulers sometimes receive visions of the future called revelations. We are never shown any without meaning and those who appear in them are often those to be watched carefully."

"And you had one just now?" Rin asked. "With Shirou in it?"

Ruler looked to the side awkwardly. "I believe. Initially, I saw two men, both with dark skin, silver hair, and red cloaks. They fought until one stabbed the other with a sword. The stabbed one then faded away and…"

She gazed at Shirou. "…you were there in his place."

Saber's eyes went wide, as did Rin's. Not only because of the news of Shirou's fate, but because the description of the men was frighteningly familiar.

Shirou's eyes narrowed. "Archer…"

Ruler plunged her flagpole into the dirt. She stood tall and noble in the light of the rising sun. "I do not know the meaning of this revelation, but for the time being, I believe that it may be best, for the sake of this war, that I keep a direct eye on you."

"Yes," Rin agreed immediately, her worried gaze locked on the pensive Shirou. "That would likely be for the best."

Saber agreed. Whatever Heroic Spirit EMIYA had to do with this war, it would be best if they had as many watchful eyes over Shirou as possible. And even if she would not help them against the other factions, Ruler's assistance would be monumentally helpful in keeping the outside circumstances from harming them, especially as they advanced towards Trifas and this mysterious person the Wizard Marshal wanted them to meet.

Jeanne D'Arc would be a wonderful, if temporary addition to their party.

…

…

…

Jeanne D'Arc…

This could be any Jeanne D'Arc…

…

Oh, who was she even trying to fool?

"Ruler?"

"Yes, Saber," the arbiter responded pleasantly.

The King of Knights hesitated. Surely, this pure, saintly figure (with a curiously familiar face) could not have known… _him_.

"It is nothing of great import," she began slowly. "But, during your life, did you ever come across someone named Gilles De Rais."

Ruler's eyes widened in joy and her face lit up like the new dawn. "You've met Gilles? Has he been summoned to this Great Holy Grail War? Wonderful! It shall be a delight to see him again."

"He-he has not been summoned here," Saber stuttered immediately. Seeing Ruler's look of confusion, she explained. "As far as I know, he is not present for this war. But I did encounter him during my time in a past war for the Holy Grail."

"Oh…" Jeanne muttered glumly. "I see. That makes more sense. With all the heroes represented in The Throne, it is unlikely that one I knew in life would be summoned."

Saber decided not to comment that as of last night, she herself was now two for three on that count.

"Perhaps this is for the best. Having him on one of the two factions would only cause me unnecessary stress and make it more difficult for me to remain impartial."

"I… I think I understand," nodded Saber.

"If I might ask, how was he?" Jeanne inquired. "When you saw him? Was he well?"

" _I have come for you, my sweet and holy virgin!"_

Saber suddenly found that she deeply regretted bringing up this topic of conversation.

"He was very… disappointed that you were not summoned as well," Saber answered as diplomatically as she possibly could.

" _I swear Jeanne, I will not rest until I have freed your soul from the terrible prison of God's cruel curse!"_

"But he remained…enthusiastic, at the very least."

Jeanne smiled like soft morning breeze. "Oh well. That does sound like Gilles. Always pushing through, no matter the situation. But," her smile fell away, "you have no need to tell half-truths. I know what became of him after my passing."

Saber stumbled, her cheeks reddening slightly with embarrassment.

"Oh, I… I apologize."

"There is no need for that either. I understand that you merely wanted to spare my feelings. But my retainer was always unstable. I could often see signs that he relied upon me more than I did upon him. I take it that a number of children died?"

Saber nodded, beginning to feel rather ill.

"Worry not. I've no doubt you did all that you could to save them. That's all anyone could have done. And I can see that you regret bringing up what must be a sordid topic for you. I'll not linger on it any longer." She turned back to the highway to collect her luggage. "Now then, we should be go _—_ " Only to find that at the end of the battle between Servants, the loser was her suitcase.

It looked like someone or something had attempted to brutally murder it. And succeeded. Clothes were torn, scorched through, tattered beyond repair, and scattered all over the highway. Jeanne's shoulder's sagged. She looked profoundly disappointed with herself. The bag couldn't even be closed properly thanks to the gaping hole burned through its center. There were some undamaged articles, but not as many as would likely be preferable.

"Let me help with that," Shirou offered before Jeanne could even think to ask as his hospitality instincts kicked in.

As the two of them went off to reassemble the suitcases tossed about the highway, Rin walked up to the King of Knights.

"Saber, when did you meet Gilles de Rais?"

"The Fourth Holy Grail War, Master," she elaborated. "He was the Caster."

"Caster? I didn't think Gilles de Rais was a mage. I thought he was just… you know… a knight who became a murderous pedophile."

"Yes. To my immense regret, I can easily imagine that."

Rin frowned.

"You seemed a bit agitated when she asked you about him. What happened?"

All at once the memories came flooding back into Saber's mind. The grotesque sea demons. The screams of the dying children as they were ripped into bloody chunks from the inside out. The boisterous, mad proclamations of a new age of blasphemous worship.

And the tentacles.

So.

Many.

Tentacles.

She suddenly had a violent urge to commit squid-homicide. Wait… no, that wasn't a thing. It didn't even make sense, linguistically speaking. She found she didn't care: She just wanted to execute something with tentacles… and maybe eat it with some salt.

"Trust me, Master. The less you know about this particular subject, the happier your life will be."

"I'm going to be honest, you sound almost traumatized. Can Shirou or I do anything to help?"

Saber grimaced, but put some thought into the question for a moment at least as a token gesture. Just in case. To her surprise, she _did_ think of something they could both do.

"Yes, actually."

"Name it, I guess."

"Never bring up this topic of conversation ever again!"

Okay, that was a miscalculation. If anything, her Master just looked more worried now.

That urge was getting worse.

* * *

 **Ah, isn't it amazing when you run into someone that knows someone you know from somewhere else?**

 **I really enjoyed writing everyone's perspectives of everyone else. It is intriguing to see who thinks what based on what information is available to them. Karna's deductions especially were a blast to write.**

 **Everyone heads towards Trifas and this mysterious person Zelretch is interested in. I wonder who it could be and what he wants them to change?**

 **Thank you for Reading! I hope you enjoy what comes next!**

 **Go Forth and Conquer!**


	5. Chapter 5

**The chapter of July!**

 **P a treon: p a Treon.(c om) (backslash) themaster4444**

 **Beta-ed by Draconic**

* * *

Chiron had seen many miraculous things in his life. He was the son of the King of the Titans after all. He'd borne witness to the beginnings of many skilled and wondrous heroes, nurturing them to their fullest capability. He'd tended to demigods and mortals alike, so long as they had the nerve. In the end, only the complete and utter agony of a hydra's venom convinced him to give up his immortality for the sake of peace. When he had been summoned into the Great Holy Grail War, he had not expected to find anything else so trying.

Which was, of course, all just a really long way of saying he had not been _remotely_ prepared for Rider of Black.

"Chiron, is he gonna be okay? Is he? Is he?"

Chiron sighed. When Fiore had notified him that Caster was looking for a homunculus that had escaped of its own accord, he certainly had not anticipated a giddy Astolfo showing up at his door with the boy over his shoulder asking for healing. Never one to refuse a patient, Chiron had allowed them in, though he found his patience slightly tested by Rider's pestering. The paladin's concern for the homunculus boy was touching and spoke well of his quality as a hero, but his endless buzzing about was not helpful in the least.

"His condition is… stable, Rider" Chiron informed him.

Astolfo slowed down, still and focused on the sickly boy lying in Chiron's bed. His lip quivered in worry. "You paused in the middle there," he observed. "Is there still something wrong with him?"

"It is not as simple a matter as something being wrong," Chiron explained. "His flesh wounds were simple enough to heal, but the simple fact is that his body isn't used to such strain. Add to that his overuse of his magic circuits, and it is surprising that fatigue was the only thing he suffered."

Lord Gordes had created the Yggdmillennia homunculi to act as prana batteries for the Black Servants, supplying them with large quantities of magical energy which allowed them to fight at higher than normal capacity. It also had the side effect of freeing the Masters of any burdens for when they fought the Masters of Red, who would need to split their power between combat and maintaining their Servants.

As a consequence, though each homunculus possessed incredibly high-quality magic circuits, they were not actually meant for the purpose of performing magecraft themselves, merely to have power extracted from them. Add to that the fact that none of those acting as batteries had ever performed any physical activity, leaving their bodies extremely malnourished and their skin as soft as an infant's, and it was as much a wonder that the boy before him had managed to crawl out of the basement as much as escaping his containment pod.

Still, that left one factor curiously vague.

"Why is it that you rescued him, Rider?" Chiron inquired.

Astolfo quirked an eyebrow in confusion. "I just did it 'cause I wanted to."

"Caster seems to be looking for him, no?"

The paladin giggled. "That's none of my business!"

Chiron sighed, but he couldn't help the smile that floated onto his lips. Rider's motivation was similar to that of many of his students, at least when they first came under his care. In time, they grew more jaded to the reality of the world, more willing to accept ulterior motives for themselves other than pure altruism. Perhaps that was why, despite his teammate's antics, he found Astolfo endearing. No matter his immaturity, he was a hero who had lived a full life, yet still held fast to the pure, perhaps childish, concept of heroism.

"I will be away for a bit. No one should be coming to visit, so do not answer the door, even if someone knocks."

"Thank you~!" Astolfo waved.

"Rider, are you going to be responsible for him until the end?" Chiron inquired.

Astolfo's eyes harden and his grin widened. "I'll keep helping until I'm completely satisfied. I won't leave him, ever."

Chiron shook his head. He had expected such a declaration, but he had to be sure. He had to be sure Rider wasn't just distracting himself from his Master's… unfortunate machinations and would leave the boy to him once he lost interest. Though, given Lady Celenike's… peculiarities, perhaps he would allow that anyway.

"Ohhh…"

Both Servants turned their attention to the bed. The homunculus boy groaned as he awakened, his unnatural red eyes strangely vulnerable in the warm light of the room.

His eyes flickered weakly between the Servants of Black.

"Uhh… who are you?" he whispered.

Astolfo was on him like a new born pup on its master. "You're awake! My name's Astolfo, and was the one who rescued you, you remember? You do remember right?"

The boy smiled softly. "Oh. Y-Yeah. Thank you. Thank you so much."

Chiron couldn't help his grin. The boy was barely alive a moment before, and now he was smiling with a person he'd barely met. It seemed Rider's exuberance did indeed have its benefits.

"This is Chiron. He's a Servant of the Archer class."

And it's many, many downsides.

"Rider…"

Astolfo's eyes went wide. "I just said your True Name, didn't I?" He turned to the homunculus. "Ignore all that. Forget I said anything."

The boy's smile disappeared. "Rider… Archer…"

"He seems to be scared," Chiron observed.

"Of course, he is," Astolfo replied. "The entire castle's gotta be looking for him."

"Then this will only frighten you more," Chiron remarked. He faced the homunculus directly. "To put it bluntly, at the most, you only have three more years to live."

The boy's eyes dropped. "I'm well aware."

Chiron didn't want to dash what little hope the child had, but he was unaware how much the boy had learned since leaving his pod. It would not do to accidently withhold information that could be crucial to his livelihood.

"You are a homunculus, as thus, the perfect existence," the sage explained. "A blank slate that no normal human could naturally become. You ought to start thinking while you still have time."

"About what?" the boy asked, his voice empty with puzzlement.

"Your life is short, so consider what you want to do with it."

"I don't know."

"Perhaps you should," Chiron advised. "If you survive this, not changing anything in yourself would be no different than dying."

The boy's eyes widened, instinctive terror etched into his pupils. "Dying?"

"Like I said, you are a blank slate. If you make it through this ordeal, there will be no shortage of paths for you to—"

 _'Archer. Can you hear me?'_

Chiron paused for a moment and shifted his focus onto his telepathic link with Lady Fiore. "Yes? What do you need, Master?"

 _'Uncle Gordes just returned from his mission. Grandfather has called a meeting in the main hall. He wants everyone to be present.'_

Chiron nodded. "Understood master. I will be there shortly."

 _'Good. See you there.'_

Sensing Fiore's presence fade from the other end of the line, the sage turned to Astolfo. "Has Lady Celenike informed you of the meeting?"

Astolfo rubbed his head wearily, as if he was struck by a migraine. "Yep. She just finished."

"Come then. Let's go." Chiron turned to the homunculus. "You may need time alone to process things, but I would advise you to take some time to consider your options."

He said no more and vanished to join his master.

"We'll be back real soon, so don't you worry!" Astolfo cheered. "See ya." He gave a quick wave before dissipating into spirit form as well. The last thing Chiron saw before he left the room was the boy's lost, hopeless gaze.

* * *

 _ **FATEFATEFATEFATEFATEFATE**_

Darnic Prestone Yggdmillennia had seen many things most would consider impossible. Being a Grail War veteran and a century old soul absorber made that unavoidable. When he was planning for the Great Holy Grail War, he'd anticipated some level of unpredictability, perhaps the Mage's Association summoning more powerful Servants than he'd accounted for or more enforcers being sent while the Red Faction occupied their Servants. He'd prepared as best he could for both those eventualities.

And yet…

"A third faction?" he spat incredulously.

Gordes gulped, sweat beading on his forehead under his lord's withering gaze. "Ye… yes. That's what I said."

Had they been alone, Darnic would have spat his response back at his subordinate. That he knew that's what he said. He had ears after all. But with the rest of his faction present, it would undermine his authority to get angry over something so miniscule.

The assembled Black Faction all stood warily throughout the throne room. While Hyouma Sagara had yet to arrive with Assassin, the six assembled Master-Servant pairs were nonetheless imposing. Or at least they would be, if Darnic didn't know the majority of them to be complete and utter disappointments. It spoke volumes that Gordes actually was their best choice to wield the third knight class.

"A third faction?" Caules Forvedge Yggdmillennia muttered like the pathetic scum he was. "Is that even possible?"

"It's highly unlikely. But not inconceivable," his wheelchair bound sister, Fiore, graciously informed him. "The Greater Grail has had multiple indecisive wars to build up _prana_. Even with the backup system and Ruler draining its reserves, a sufficiently powerful force could in theory prompt it to summon more Servants. Though what that force could be, I have no idea."

Darnic smiled, and for once it had an element of genuine pride in it. Allowing the Forvedge siblings into Yggdmillennia had indeed proven to be a wise choice, if only since it brought him the older one. Fiore and Caules, despite their love for one another, were as different as night and day.

Fiore was the only mage other than himself who had spent time at the Clock Tower, and thus, despite her disability, the only other master he actually trusted to be capable of taking the Association mages in a straight fight. In the ranks of Yggdmillennia, where subpar was so often the average, she possessed magic circuits of as fine a quality as any first-rate mage. Though he would show her no mercy if they both made it to the free for all portion of the war, Darnic believed he would mourn her passing, and if she survived the conflict, he would be more than happy to leave to the newly glorified Yggdmillennia in her hands after he ascended to the Root.

Meanwhile, Caules was a mockery of everything a true mage stood for, the price to be paid for his sister's brilliance no doubt. He had no drive or ambition, no lust for evolution. Such sloth might be excusable if he were in any way remarkable, but the boy was completely hopeless at magecraft, with only some meager skills in a smattering of niche fields such as summoning and necromancy to his name, and even then, there was nothing he could do in those fields that a truly competent mage could not do better. And then there was his disgraceful dependence on technology. He even had an aptitude for it… Worst of all, he seemed to be laboring under the obscene delusion that his sister somehow depended on him.

Really, one only needed to look at their Servants to see the disparity. While Fiore had summoned Chiron, the teacher of half the heroes in Greek Mythology, in his preferred knight class no less, Caules had barely managed to conjure the monster of Doctor Frankenstein, a filthy artificial being that lacked even the useful qualities of a cheaply constructed homunculus, as a Berserker. The mechanical creature did not have the absurdly high power of most other Servants in her class, to the extent that her Mad Enhancement skill's function wasn't so much a boost to her natural abilities so much as it made her otherwise pathetic stats merely substandard. And with her lack of any useful skills, the pair would not be of a great help in the war.

Ideally, Darnic would keep Fiore as one of his elite hunters for the duration of the war, while Caules would serve as a pawn to be sacrificed as needed. If all went well, they could insure that Berserker's Noble Phantasm did as much damage to the Red Faction as possible, but on the other hand, it might be more useful to leave that failure alive until the final stages of the war: Something needed to be done about Fiore's debilitating compassion. It was a fine thing for a person to have, but to be truly successful in the moonlit world, one needed to focus on their goals. Empathy could cost a mage time, energy, even his life.

Thus, in order for Fiore to be a proper candidate to succeed him as head of the family, he would need to eliminate every trace of it within her. Presently, she deluded herself into believing she could kill without regrets, but her true nature would still show itself at some point, a truly unfathomable sense of guilt sometimes even hitting her retroactively after killing a test subject. If Berserker survived, he had no doubt she would start subconsciously avoiding her brother. He would ensure she failed in that particular endeavor. The act of murdering her own brother would break her in exactly the right way to make her the perfect head of the family. Without that insufferable whelp holding her down, and with the right words to reshape her mind in any misplaced grief she might feel, she would finally be able to realize her potential. No more silly and childish games like family and morals: Just Yggdmillennia. But for now, he had to focus on this extra faction.

"It matters little," Caster of Black, Solomon ibn Gabirol, otherwise known as Avicebron, declared. "No matter how powerful the instigating catalyst, the Grail would not have the magical energy necessary to summon a whole other faction."

"Teacher's right," Caster's Master, Roche Frain Yggdmillennia, concurred. "It's likely the ones that Gordes and Saber encountered are the only members of this new group."

It was a useful conclusion. Truthfully, that was the best way to describe the Caster pair: useful. Useful and competent. While Avicebron was not especially powerful, he knew how to use his specialization to its fullest effect. The first Servant summoned after Darnic's own, the Light of Wisdom's workshop had been hard at work creating high quality golems for the Black Faction, the kind that take a modern magus a year to make just one of. The thousand strong army wouldn't do much against the Servants of Red, but they would ward off any additional forces the Clock Tower might send, and if they got lucky, might even get the drop on an enemy master. Not to mention that when they completed Caster's Noble Phantasm, his Golem Keter Malkuth, the war was practically theirs. And with Roche eager to learn from his 'teacher' who knew what ancient knowledge Yggdmillennia would have after the war.

"What? You mean they're all alone?! Aww, that's so lonely. And totally not fair!" Rider yelled fervently. "Maybe we can go easy on them? You know? Oh! Oh! I know! I'll fight them! That should make it easy enough for them—"

"Be silent, Rider!" Celenike barked. "We will show them no mercy, _is that understood?_ "

Rider rolled his eyes. "Yes, Master."

Astolfo was even more ridiculous than Darnic had expected. Yes, his legends had told of him being insane, but he had taken that to mean the paladin would have some form of Madness Enchantment. Instead he was… bubbly… for lack of a better term. And unfortunately, his legends did not mislead about his strength. While his extraordinary Magic Resistance and the nature of his Noble Phantasms made him more useful than Berserker, he was still far from impressive. Why Celenike sought him out specifically, he did not understand.

Though given that Celenike was… Celenike, Darnic doubted he wanted to understand. The woman was, to be frank, disgusting. Her knowledge and expertise in curses made her a deadly weapon, but in between her duties, she used those curses to kidnap and murder civilians for fun. Darnic had, from a certain point of view, done far worse things in his life, but they were all done for the sake of Yggdmillennia's prosperity. Such wanton cruelty for the sake of mere amusement was revolting and wasteful, to say nothing of how much she was risking revealing their world just to get a cheap sexual thrill.

Overall, the Black Faction was hardly what one would call the perfect fighting force. If this was all he had, Darnic would not have dared invoke the full wrath of the Mage's Association by seceding. Fortunately, he had much more.

Despite the few jewels in Yggdmillennia's crown, Darnic had polished it to perfection. For sixty years, he had prepared, building up a force of homunculi and devising strategies for the Holy Grail War. He had created an army of such size that even if the Red Servants could match their own, the Masters would be overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of the Black auxiliary forces. Add to that the lack of time the Red Faction had to assemble and prepare themselves, and Yggdmillennia's possession of the Greater Grail allowing them to fight a defensive battle behind secure fortifications, and he was confident that they would claim victory.

And then there was his crowning jewel.

"Few in number or not, this new group has chosen to invade this nation just as the Red Faction has," a strong, confident voice stated from behind Darnic. "As the king of this land, I cannot allow such insolence to stand. They shall receive no mercy for daring to stand against the Black Faction!"

Darnic grinned from ear to ear. His choice for his own Servant had been the best possible option in Romania. Vlad the Third's abilities would be boosted exponentially in Romania under normal circumstances due to the boost afforded by his fame, but with his Demonic Defender of the State skill in effect, that bonus was doubled. There was an essence of danger about him that would terrify lesser men. But those had only be the boons that were expected.

What Darnic hadn't counted on was just how efficient Lancer would be. Though he had no illusions about a Servant being anything more than a familiar, not even he could deny that the King of Romania had a certain charisma about him, an aura that oozed overwhelming competence and confidence. Indeed, Darnic found himself liking and respecting his Servant more than he could remember any other person. Though his adamant refusal to use his second Noble Phantasm, Legend of Dracula, was worrying, the head of Yggdmillennia had no issue handing him the reins of the Black Faction. Between the two of them, he was the more experienced one when it came to commanding an army after all.

Besides, Kazikli Bey would be more than sufficient to claim victory.

Vlad looked to Saber. "What is your assessment of the enemy Servants?"

Siegfried had proven himself to be the perfect solider. Powerful, efficient, and unquestioningly obedient, the Dragon Slaying Knight was a finer Servant than Gordes deserved. The fool had actually commanded the hero to be silent unless spoken to by him, as if that would improve their communication at all. Darnic had learned from experience that even if a Servant was a weapon, treating them with respect provided many benefits for the war. It had with Fionn, and so far, had done the same with Vlad.

Fortunately, Lancer held higher authority than Gordes, which meant that Siegfried was permitted to ignore his Master's foolish order. "They were exceptional to the utmost. Of the two, I would say Lancer of Red is the greater threat, but Saber of Periwinkle is also a warrior of impressive skill. I believe she possesses some element of a dragon, but her power is such that I would consider her my equal still."

Darnic frowned. That was worrying. Siegfried's entire legend was based around dragon slaying. If this Servant was on par with him despite that advantage, what threat did she pose to the rest of their Servants? And to think the Red Faction had a hero even stronger than that…

Lancer remained calm, his brow furrowed in contemplation. "So, they are worthy foes… none should confront them save Saber or myself. Any other would be annihilated."

The rest of the masters and Servants nodded their understanding. None of them had any particular wish to die.

Fiore turned to Gordes. "What about the Masters? You said you fought them, Uncle Gordes."

Gordes became red in the face. He scratched the back of his head nervously. "The Red Master was a coward. He didn't show himself. And the other girl didn't have the guts to face me herself."

"And you just let her stand there?" Celenike sniped, biting down hard on the corner of her lip. "You _do_ understand that we're supposed to kill the enemy whether they like it or not, right?"

"You think I didn't try!" Gordes shouted. "She had some stooge with her. He had twin swords and moved like a demon! He pierced right through my metal arm. I was lucky to get away with my life!"

Darnic's eye twitched. "You lost… to a mere swordsman?"

Gordes' eyes went wide, as if he finally realized the depths of his failure. "He wasn't a normal swordsman! The weapons—! He-he created them out of _nothing!_ It was like some strange form of Gradation Air!"

"Do you mean to tell me," Darnic snarled, "that you were beaten into submission, not by a mage… but by her _apprentice's rudimentary projection magic?!_ Even a _child_ is capable of momentarily conjuring a weapon. How feeble is that alchemical armor spell you say you were using that it could be penetrated by a weapon that doesn't even exist! I expect you to be able to deal with a child, Gordes."

His tone made it clear that such incompetence was not to become a habit. Failure to retrieve Ruler was understandable, indeed even preferable to antagonizing her. But to be so soundly trumped by the minion of an enemy master, a minion who sounded like he could barely even be called a mage, was unacceptable.

Gordes backed away, cowering by Saber, hoping that the hero could defend him from Darnic's wrath if it came to that.

Fortunately, Lancer saw fit to raise a hand before Darnic put himself out a master.

"Being caught off guard is an understandable reason for defeat, Darnic," Lancer reasoned. "Though you should take care to avoid repeating it, as should we all. Is there anything else you can remember about this Master or her ally?"

Gordes scratched his chin in contemplation. "Erm… let's see… Well… she called herself Toh—no. No, that _must_ have been a lie. But there was… the boy. He had Black Command Seals on his right hand."

"Black Command Seals?" Caules asked incredulously. "Does that mean something important?"

"I'm not sure," Fiore muttered. "Did he have a Servant?"

"No," Gordes responded. "His behavior would suggest that the girl's Saber was their only Servant."

Darnic stewed in silence as his faction theorized. Most of the suggestions were wild guesswork, the fanciful tales of those grasping at straws. Unlike his family, he had spent decades studying the Greater Grail, and knew its workings better than anyone alive. Yet, he had never heard of anyone possessing Commands Seals of any color but the traditional red.

It was disturbing. First Assassin's tardiness, the Red Faction making a pointless play for Ruler, and now this extra group mocking their factions. For all his preparation, this Great Holy Grail War just kept surprising him.

"Enough," Lancer declared. The king rose to his feet, his stature grand and inspiring. Even his constant aura of underlying dread could not thwart his honest majesty. "Another Master. Another faction. It makes no difference. Even if ten thousand Servants from one thousand factions were to be called to this war, there are none I would rather have by my side than those in this room. Our enemies may come, one at a time or all together. It doesn't matter. The Black Faction will be victorious!"

The Servants and Masters in the room, even stoic Siegfried and mad Celenike, all smiled at the king's proclamation. Darnic himself couldn't help but join in. Even if he lacked the Charisma Skill, Vlad certainly knew how to make a grand speech.

"And if the Red Faction, or the Periwinkle Faction, wishes to test that resolve, they will fall on our stakes!"

Darnic's smile disappeared.

The rest of the group filed out of the throne room, leaving master and Servant alone.

Darnic sighed. "We really must find some other way to refer to them. Periwinkle is simply too ridiculous to take seriously."

"Nonsense, master," Vlad gently retorted as he retook his place on the throne. "No matter how preposterous our enemy's standard, it is the one they have chosen to fight under. Unusual though their existence may be, the Periwinkle Faction conducted themselves honorably during this incident with Ruler. They have earned our respect and we shall grant it to them and refer to them properly."

Darnic felt a spike of irritation rise in him but squashed it down instantly. He bowed before Lancer. "As you say, my lord."

At the moment, he possessed an exemplary relationship with his Servant. Though he had given Vlad far more freedom than most Masters allowed, even referring to him with the honorifics his past kingship would demand, the Hero of the Spear had never abused the position he had been elevated to, even continuing to acknowledge and speak of Darnic as his Master. And with the entire war ahead of them, including the fast approaching Berserker of Red, he would hold his tongue when he had to.

Besides, what Master would waste breath reprimanding their Servant over something so trivial?

* * *

 _ **FATEFATEFATEFATEFATEFATE**_

Shirou Kotomine sighed. "It really is not that funny."

"Oh… _eheheh_ — but Master… _snrk!_ — it is! _Periwinkle!_ " Assassin of Red covered her mouth again to keep herself from cackling out loud.

The Ancient Empress of Assyria, the World's First Poisoner, was partaking in her own equivalent of rolling around on the church's floor, chortling her stomach out. She sat gracefully upon one of the pews, one leg crossed over the other, clutching at her sides with the fingers of one hand as she covered her mouth with the side of the other. She seemed to have a very different opinion on the matter. Her laughter was a mere titter when it even escaped her lips which she had sealed tight, but the shaking of her shoulders and the mirth in her eyes betrayed how amusing she found this.

Shirou shook his head in resignation. Lancer stood before him stoically, speechless since delivering his report about what happened on the highway. The final Servant present more than made up for it.

" _Yet markt I where the bolt of Cupid fell:_

 _It fell upon a little western flower,_

 _Before milk-white, now purple with love's wound_ ,

And now purple has turned to periwinkle, and the blossoming flower heralds the arrival of a brave new faction into this Great Holy Grail War!"

That finally stole the laughter from Semiramis. Her bright smile evaporated as if it was never there in the first place and she gingerly rose to her feet. "Must you spoil everything with your insufferable pomp?"

Caster of Red, William Shakespeare, grinned brazenly. "What news could be more deserving of such bombast, my dear empress? The once clearly set path of fate has been overtaken by an impenetrable fog, our certain destiny lost to the winds of chaos and the whims of creation!" he spread his arms wide. "It is here the hero's mettle shall be tested, as his best laid plans edge ever closer to crushing desolation!"

"Doubtful," Karna countered dispassionately. "Though Saber of Periwinkle is undoubtedly a formidable warrior, I should have little trouble defeating her."

From most people, such words would sound as arrogant boasting, but Shirou knew better in Karna's case. The Hero of Charity, blunt as he could be, was not the blustering type. His words were merely his honest observation, with no malicious intent whatsoever. And with the tremendous power the Lancer of Red possessed, Shirou did not doubt him. He could likely defeat most of the Black Faction all at once if he were to face them in a straight battle.

Thus, it was imperative that Karna did not discover his plans until such time that Shirou had seized the Greater Grail. If he lost control of his trump card, who knew if he could overcome Yggdmillennia's fortifications. The task was made more difficult by Karna's ability to detect any lie, but Shirou never liked lying anyway. With Semiramis and Shakespeare both helping him, he should have little trouble keeping the truth from the other Servants of Red.

…

…

…

That is, if Shakespeare didn't tell them just to see what would happen.

Shirou sighed. He couldn't worry about that now. Until such time as he had revealed himself, he couldn't risk using a Command Seal on any Servant but Semiramis, lest the others get suspicious. For now, he'd just have to trust the bard to be true to his word. He just had to keep going.

He was almost there.

"Do you have any other information about the Periwinkle Faction?" he asked Karna. "I know of Shirou Emiya, but did you learn the names of the others?"

"I have my suspicions of Saber of Periwinkle's True Name," Karna revealed. "However, as I have no way to be sure quite yet, it could be harmful to set you upon a possible false trail."

Understandable. If Karna revealed his suspicions, Shirou could misinterpret clues to her true identity to be leading towards the supposed heroic spirit. It was a minor concern, but still best avoided if possible.

"As for her Master, I believe she was referred to by the name Tohsaka."

Shirou's heart skipped a beat. His smile fell away to be replaced by a look of concern.

"I'm sorry, Lancer, I must have misheard you. Could you please repeat that?"

Karna sighed. "Just because you desire not to have heard it does not mean that your ears have deceived you, priest. However, it is of no object to repeat myself. The girl was referred to by her allies as Tohsaka."

Shirou turned and staggered away from the Servants. He leaned against one of the pews, his eyes wide his shock and his mind whirling with disbelief.

"That is impossible!" Semiramis declared with indignation. "The Tohsaka bloodline was wiped out in the Third Holy Grail War. You must have been mistaken."

"That is possible but doubtful, Assassin," Lancer replied. "I know what I heard. What you choose to do with it is your own business."

Shirou rangled with himself and took a deep breath. "Thank you, Lancer. You've done good work tonight. Please prepare to provide support to Archer and Rider if their effort to retrieve Berserker spirals into something more."

Lancer nodded. "As you wish. Though I do warn you priest, you are not my Master. It would be improper for you to command me as such."

With that, Karna astralized and was gone.

Semiramis huffed. "The nerve of that fool. If he only knew the truth, he would not speak with such impertinence."

"He means well," Shirou muttered, though he was too distracted to put much effort into the reproof.

Semiramis turned to him. She frowned worriedly. "Are you alright, master?"

Shirou shook his head fervently. He did his best to give Semiramis a pleasant smile. "I'm alright, I assure you. It's just… a Tohsaka. I thought they were all gone. I thought I had failed them all."

Shakespeare walked forward and clapped the priest on the back. "You place too little faith in the endurance of the hunted, Master. For though noble Banquo was slain, young Fleance was far able enough to escape the murderers' knives."

Shirou gathered the playwright was alluding to one of his many works, though being only halfway through the complete collection the Caster had gifted him, he was unsure which he referred to. Still, the meaning was easy enough to comprehend, even if it didn't apply.

" _I checked, Caster!_ " Shirou protested. He caught himself before he shouted again however, and lowered his voice, taking a deep breath. "So, did my father. We searched for the Master and his kin for weeks after the Third War. We found all of them, each one slaughtered. Even after that, Risei kept his ears open for years, praying that we'd missed something, that there had been an illegitimate child we weren't informed of. Anything to suggest that they hadn't all been exterminated."

He felt the beginnings of tears peak up behind his eyes, but he squashed them down instantly. This news was tearing him in two, dragging his failures to the surface and amplifying them, for not only had he been unable to save the Tohsakas he knew of, but he had left the lone survivor to fend for herself in the midst of the cruel, sinful world.

He had cast off his emotions to prevent such turmoil, and yet, as the hour neared where he would need to be composed the most, he found himself collapsing.

Assassin gave him a sympathetic glance. "You really shouldn't tear yourself up over this, Master," she insisted. "If you found them all, you found them all. This girl, whoever she is, must be some imposter. A pretender who's using the name to make herself appear more dangerous than she is. After all, if she was a Tohsaka, wouldn't she have contacted her family's dear friend Risei Kotomine, or at least his son?"

Shirou's eyes widened. "She did."

Both Semiramis and Shakespeare raised their eyebrows in confusion.

"I thought you said you'd never met her?" his Servant inquired.

"I haven't," Shirou confirmed. "But according to Emiya, my brother has."

Shakespeare's face lit up like the heavens themselves. "A brother?! My dear Master, I am astounded! To think the Saint of times long past possesses kin still on this Earth!" He spread his arms wide, as he shouted as boisterously as his eloquent tone would allow, " _What a plot turning revelation!_ An unpredictable twist!"

Semiramis glared daggers at him. "I remember that boy mentioning you had a brother, but I assumed after you didn't bring it up that the matter was unimportant."

Shirou cringed, bashfully rubbing the back of his head. "It's not that I was trying to hide it. I just didn't have any reason to mention him until now. We were never especially close, and I haven't seen him since Risei's funeral."

Shakespeare wriggled his eyebrows mischievously. "Ah! A case of Edgar and Edmund. But which is the legitimate and which is the bastard?"

Shirou frowned. "Caster, this is a house of the Lord. Please refrain from such language. Besides, neither Kirei nor I have such issues with the other, we merely haven't had as much interaction as most brothers have. He traveled with our father on pilgrimages when he was young, while I worked towards obtaining the Grail. We never had the time to see each other."

Well, that and his fear of the anomaly he sensed within Kirei. A fear he might have to confront quite soon.

After all, if Kirei had taught this supposed Tohsaka magecraft like Emiya claimed, then he would be able to confirm if she was who she claimed to be.

But so close to his goal, to the salvation of all humanity, could he take that risk?

Could he not? Even with the third faction going after Yggdmillennia, he'd have to face them eventually. They'd already thwarted his attempt to eliminate Ruler. Against such a dangerous foe, did he not need every scrap of information he could get?

After all, if this Master of Periwinkle had proven anything in the past few days, it was that she was a strategic mastermind of the highest caliber.

* * *

 _ **FATEFATEFATEFATEFATEFATE**_

"Okay, so the 'three,' in this case, the 'A,' is multiplied by itself. You do the same thing for the 'four' over here," said Rin.

Jeanne nodded, eyes focused on the scene in front of her.

"So now this here, can you tell me what it is?"

"Um… it's a nine and a sixteen, so… twenty-five?"

"And what is the square root of that?"

"Umm… I still don't understand what that means…" Jeanne whimpered.

"What times itself makes twenty-five?"

"Oh! Five!"

"Correct!" Rin proclaimed proudly, a wide grin shining across her face. "Now, just remember that A squared plus B squared equals C squared, and you'll be all set for this next part."

Ruler gasped, her eyes widening in awe. "Incredible! You are a genius, Master of Periwinkle."

Rin's could only smile in embarrassment. "It's nothing really. I was at the top of my class back in high-school. Solving these problems is child's play for me, but I still barely use any of it anymore. I'm actually forgetting a lot of it."

"Nevertheless, you have my deepest thanks." Ruler narrowed her eyes at the notebook. "To think, such infernal concepts would exist in the Lord's beautiful world."

Saber raised an eyebrow. "Do you truly hate arithmetic so, Ruler?"

Ruler froze like a deer in the headlights.

Jeanne's paralyzed face slowly shifted into a sullen frown. "I hate no man, woman, or child on God's earth. There is no person I do not love."

"Just not math," Rin snarked.

"Numbers aren't people!" she fumed, giving the chuckling Saber a half-hearted stink-eye. "Y-You would surely not find this nearly as amusing if you were the one attempting it!"

"I agree," Saber nodded. "I will confess that I feel some measure of relief knowing that you are the one who needs to solve these problems, rather than I."

The three women sat together at a picnic table outside a cheap motel. Inside, Shirou was preparing dinner, while Rin had decided to engage their companion in conversation under the stars. They were close to Millennia Citadel, and who knew if Ruler would stay with them once they encountered this person Zelretch was so eager for them to meet. She needed to pump the Saint for information about these revelations of hers while she still could.

"Erm, also, what did you mean by 'this next part?'" Jeanne asked.

"Well, what I just showed you was a very simple example of prerequisite knowledge. This thing on the page here is the actual problem. You're supposed to be applying the Pythagorean Theorem to this problem over here…" Rin sighed, pointing at the page the textbook was opened to, "Which means I have to teach you Sine Law. And Cosine and Tangent Laws."

Jeanne's already worried expression fell away to be replaced by absolute dread.

"Incidentally, I can't remember any of those things, so I'll need to borrow your textbook for a minute."

Her way in turned out to be an assortment of notebooks splayed across the table. Apparently, when Ruler had taken control of Laeticia's body, she had agreed to do her best to keep the girl's life on track as much as possible. Since she couldn't attend her classes while performing her duties, Ruler had decided to keep her word by completing Laeticia's homework in her downtime. Unfortunately, despite her supernatural abilities and renown as a Servant, Jeanne still had the education of a fifteenth century peasant girl, hardly sufficient to conduct twenty-first century math.

Or any math, really. At least, anything beyond rudimentary addition and subtraction. Quite frankly, it was a miracle that she had caught on to multiplication so quickly. Or rather, it was only thanks to the Grail. When one thought about it, the two were basically the same thing.

"I've gotta say, this is incredibly basic stuff. I mean, you're still leagues away from things like logarithms or even factoring polynomials. Or even factoring in general. I'm gonna be honest, you should focus on another subject. At your current level, what you're attempting to do is impossible. It's literally going from simple multiplication to trigonometry in a single step. It can't be done."

"But—but I promised Laeticia…"

The Tohsaka mage chuckled at the Saint's feeble protests. "You can always focus on different subjects. I'm sure you're more than capable of writing a compare and contrast essay on a pair of books, or… I dunno, does she have a visual arts class? Come to think of it, shouldn't Laeticia be able to help you through these things? I mean she's gotta be in there somewhere, right?" she pointed vaguely at Jeanne's forehead.

"I don't know," Jeanne answered despondently, "I feel like she's been asleep for a very long time."

"Can't you, like, cede control of her body back to her, or something?"

"That is impossible without me vanishing completely."

"Okay, you're definitely in a rough spot… I can sympathize. I guess… my only advice is to try and wake her up."

Her mouth blossomed into a catlike grin. "So, Ruler, I was wondering, since I have been helping you with this, would you be willing to tell us a bit more about your revelations?"

Ruler sighed. "Rin, my revelations are not so easy to discuss and even if they were, I cannot disclose exclusive information to any faction. The only one I can speak with you about is the one about the silver haired men, and even that is only due to Shirou's involvement in it."

"That's fine" Rin declared. The other visions would be useful, but the one involving Shirou was the one that concerned her the most. "I was actually wondering; did you recognize either of the men you saw?"

"No. I can't say I did," Jeanne replied. "Other than their red garments and dark skin, I can say for certain that both men were Japanese, but nothing that might hint at their identities. Do you have a theory?"

Rin bit her lip, mulling over whether she could risk discussing her old Archer with Ruler. But, if you couldn't trust a Saint…

"Have you ever heard of the Heroic Spirit EMIYA?"

Jeanne nodded. "I have. I had some limited contact with the Counter Force during my life. After my ascension to the Throne of Heroes, I looked into what Guardians I could find. That particular Hero of Justice had one of the finest records I had ever…" her eyes widened. "Wait… Shirou… is he…?"

"No," Rin said, perhaps a little too quickly. "And he never will be."

Jeanne looked down. "I see. So the heroic spirit was from another timeline. Still, to see that one may enter the Throne for doing such terrible things. How could he not become cynical? Is his attitude a mask?"

"Shirou is not a cynic, and it took a great deal of trauma to shape him into the one we met in the previous War," Saber assured their guest. "Our Shirou, however, is still perhaps a little… overzealous… when it comes to saving others, but he is far from one who dwells on his own suffering to the exclusion of all else. That is a trait he can only develop after killing more people than he could cope with."

"I don't see how he couldn't," Jeanne confessed. "While such perseverance is admirable, how could it _not_ give out after so much—"

"Dinner's ready!" Shirou shouted, coming over to the table with a veritable feast in his arms. Soon, the picnic table was covered with steaming, delectable dishes of both East and West.

First to land on the table was a pan of stir-fried vegetables with beef strips, closely followed by macaroni and cheese with leeks and roasted tomato. Yotsumi yakitori was put out with a couple of dipping sauces that he had probably made from scratch. Saber was looking a little disappointed that a certain side dish seemed to be missing until Shirou went back inside and brought out a plate stacked high with rice balls, likely with various fillings, and she grinned excitedly. And it went so well with everything on the table!

"I didn't know what Ruler would like, so I just tried to make as much of a variety as I could with the ingredients we had on hand" Shirou explained. "That alright, Ruler?"

Ruler couldn't respond, as both she and Saber had their gazes locked on the magnificent banquet before them.

Rin leaned into the Saint with a smirk. "You were saying?"

"Such wonderful aromas… the taste must be euphoria itself…"

"Welcome to heaven, Ruler," Saber said, grinning. From her perspective, it had only been a few days since she last ate Shirou's cooking, but she was already incredibly eager to have it again.

"Dig in everybody," Shirou said.

The words had barely left his mouth before the blonde Servants assaulted the menagerie of meals, each one eagerly stacking their selections, gobbling them up only once they couldn't fit anything else on their plates, and both were somehow managing to do it with impeccable manners. It was like watching a mirror move from both sides. If it weren't for her familiarity with Saber and Jeanne's much longer hair, Rin wasn't sure she could have told them apart.

Shirou went back inside and a minute later came back out with more food.

"Wohtsh jhmpph—!" Jeanne caught herself before continuing. She chewed, swallowed, and took a breath before trying to speak again. "Begging your pardon," she blushed, "I just wanted to ask; what are those?" She pointed at a bowl stacked with 'chips.'

"French fries," Shirou said, putting them on the table alongside some tempura he had brought out at the same time. Ruler just looked more confused. "Fried potato strips. Origin debatable, but they're probably not from France."

"I just want to know where you found a deep fryer," Rin asked.

"The motel kitchen."

Rin gave him a look.

"What? A member of the staff walked by our room while I was coming out with the stir and offered to let me use some of the kitchen staff's ingredients if I also helped cook dinner for the guests at the motel restaurant at dinner tonight."

"Shirou, are you serious?" Rin sighed in exasperation.

"I can't help it if people like my food."

"Yeah, but letting them rope you into doing the jobs of their staff is on a completely different level of ridiculous altruism."

"They said they'd reimburse me for any ingredients I used that they didn't provide themselves, so I figured that as long as we don't have anything to lose…" he trailed off. Rin didn't try to argue. There was really no point anyway. Besides, if he was going to do someone else's chores for absolutely no reason, at least he was just cooking. It was the one thing she knew he always loved to do.

Indeed, Rin had a pleased smirk on her face as she took some of the yakitori and rice. Shirou's cooking was often a more powerful bargaining chip than he knew, and if Jeanne enjoyed it as much as Saber, Rin might just be able to get a dearly desired favor out of her.

Shirou smiled as everyone ate. "So, how is everything?"

Saber nodded. She bit into the last bit of meat on her last skewer of yakitori and pulled it off the stick, sighing and grinning with clear satisfaction, having devoured nearly half the food on the table. "Yes. I'm glad to know your cooking skills remain as unparalleled as ever. I'll have seconds at your convenience."

"Yeah, I figured you might," Shirou chuckled. "I've already got some stuff in the oven, although the hotel is requesting that some of it be served at dinner."

"May I please have more as well, Shirou?" Ruler requested eagerly, and Rin noticed that the dishes of the other half of the meal had begun to pile up in front of the arbiter.

Shirou's eyes went wide. "Oh. Sure, Ruler. But I only expected to feed one person with Saber's appetite."

Ruler's face fell. "Oh, I see. You only have enough for one."

"No, it's just—"

"Hmm… You two may have to split the seconds," Rin piped up.

Everyone's gazes locked onto the young Tohsaka: Ruler's was hopeful, Saber's bespoke mild panic, and Shirou just looked plain confused.

 _'Tohsaka, what are you talking about?'_ Shirou inquired through their gem link. _'It might take me a bit more time to make another course for Ruler, but I can do it.'_

 _'She doesn't know that, Shirou,'_ Rin reasoned. _'And that means we can use it as leverage.'_

She could feel Shirou's disapproving frown. _'We are_ not _using my food to strong-arm her into betraying her duties, Rin. Also, can't you see how distressed Saber feels about the idea?'_

To be fair, Saber did look quite distressed. Rin rolled her eyes. _'Relax Shirou. I don't want to turn her against us by trying to force her to do something against her will. This is just a way to add extra incentive.'_

 _'This is distastefully underhanded, Master,'_ Saber protested. _'I thought you above such knavery.'_

 _'You just don't want to share the food.'_

"Shirou made it for me!" Saber protested aloud, her sudden outburst earning a curious glance from Ruler.

 _'And you left us on an out of control motorcycle. Consider this your punishment.'_

Saber crossed her arms and pouted, but she did not speak up.

Rin sighed. She turned back to Ruler with a huge smile.

"Ruler, I was wondering if, in exchange for Saber generously sacrificing half her food to you, you might be willing to do us a little favor."

Jeanne's eyes narrowed at Rin, but the sudden growling of her stomach forced her to look away in embarrassment. "Erm… That depends on what you had in mind."

Rin grinned. "Well, as Ruler, you are in charge of certain… aspects of the Grail War. So, this would include things like… just for example, faction color designations, correct?"

Ruler raised an eyebrow. "…Yes? Yes, it would. Why do you ask?"

"Perfect!"

Rin's smirk widened. A few clouds overhead began gathering ominously overhead.

"In exchange for a second helping," she said, "you must change our faction color into something that isn't Periwinkle."

The clouds dispersed.

Shirou sighed, resting his head in one hand. "Really? Rin, it's not that bad a color."

"I cannot believe I've sacrificed half of my food for this…" Saber mumbled dejectedly.

A letter addressed to Rin appeared in a tiny conflagration of prismatic sparks. For once, she eagerly opened it up.

 _My Dear Apprentice,_

 _I confess that you are allowed to change your color as many times as you like. I am actually a little surprised that you didn't immediately see my Periwinkle joke for what it was. Credit where it is due, you normally see through such trifles. Given the fact that Red is already taken, I would recommend Blue or Green._

 _Warmest regards,_

 _K.Z.S._

Rin groaned.

"Damn that old man," she whined. On the other hand, he had all but given her his word that he wouldn't interfere. That was enough to wipe the frown from her face. She had this in the bag. She would finally be rid of that ridiculous color. Not for blue though. Anything but that.

Ruler quirked an eyebrow in confusion, then shrugged. "I doubt that anyone has ever sought to do such a thing before. Then again, I suppose it is within my power. And it isn't against the rules of the Holy Grail War. Very well, I'll do it. Do you have any preference for the new color?"

Rin leaned back, looking very pleased with this outcome. "I don't care. As long as it isn't periwinkle, I don't care. Erm—not blue though."

Saber blinked.

"Why ever not?" she asked, "It seems perfectly reasonable to me. In fact, I would quite enjoy having that as our new standard."

"Blue is Luvia's color, not mine! I am not fighting under my arch-nemesis' banner!"

"Arch-nemesis? Is that not a touch melodramatic? Luvia is a wonderful…" Saber paused mid-sentence and sidled her way over to Shirou. "Who is this Luvia character?"

"Luviagelita Edelfelt," Shirou whispered back. "Imagine Rin but Finnish, a little more conniving, and much more aware of her social status. To be clear about why Rin's upset, she's partial to wearing blue dresses, so she kind of associates the color blue with her."

"So this other woman has good taste? Why the animosity?"

"They're rivals. But the truth of the matter is that they're probably also best friends. Never let either of them hear you suggest that. They just think they hate each other because they see their own faults in the other. As I said, they're shockingly alike. Never suggest that in front of them either."

Rin's eyebrow twitched. He did realize she was sitting right there? No matter how quiet he was, she was going to hear him.

Saber nodded, appearing to understand. Nevertheless…

"I still hold that blue is an appropriate banner for us to fight under," she said, speaking up again.

"You've got no hope of me agreeing to that," Rin fired back.

Jeanne sighed. Such a difficult woman.

"You can't deny that blue is easier to get used to than periwinkle. And it's not like red is available anyway."

"I know, but—"

"Who's more important to you, Saber or Luvia?" Shirou asked firmly.

The answer wasn't even up for debate. Regardless of the length of time spent with one another, there was an obvious answer.

"…Saber," Rin said, not meeting Shirou's eyes.

"So can't you try and think of Blue as being Saber's color rather than Luvia's?"

Rin shrank back just a little. She really didn't want to, but on the other hand, if she allowed herself to think rationally, it was the reasonable thing to do: It was simple (and more importantly, not embarrassing), and it would make Saber happy. And considering that Saber wore so much blue, it _was_ kind of fitting. Still…

Rin scratched her head in frustration. "Fine, I'll go with Blue."

Saber seemed happy about this decision. She took some measure of comfort in that. It was about as much as she could get.

"Very well." Ruler stood up and summoned her flag. She slammed the pole into the earth, the magnificent banner glowing a brilliant gold against the growing evening shadows. "By the power invested in me as Ruler, True Name: Jeanne D'Arc, Arbiter of the Great Holy Grail War, I revoke the standard of this faction."

Rin could practically feel her heart ease. No more laughter, no more mockery. She could focus all her attention on utterly annihilating the other factions. Still, it was Luvia's… No, don't think about it that way. She had enough integrity to see it as a representation of Saber, at least for a little while.

"From now on, I declare this group, the Blue Faction!"

A soft whine escaped from Rin's throat. "I feel like I'm just trading one headache for another…"

"Thank you, Master," Saber lit up. "However, if you find you're unable to abide with this color, we can simply change it again. I'll not stop you."

"No. It's fine," she sighed in resignation. After all, changing their faction name every other day would be even more ridiculous than leaving it as Periwinkle.

Jeanne smiled at Arturia. "It does seem most appropriate. You are the only Servant in this faction, and you do seem to wear a great deal of blue. Also, it corresponds well with red and black."

Rin found, to her continued frustration, that she couldn't argue with that.

As the two blonde Servants got to talking about their color preferences and what came of that, Rin could barely breathe. She'd gotten rid of the ridiculous standard her master had stuck her with but now was forced to fight under the iconic standard of her rival.

…

No. Blue was Saber's color before Luvia's. She got there first. The fact that she'd known Luvia for longer didn't have to mean anything. Shirou was right: She'd get used to this.

Jeanne reached into her bag and found a book. She had to have been incredibly lucky that it hadn't burned up in Karna's initial attack. Rin only recognized the title, _Les Miserables_ , due to its fame as a Broadway musical. She had only a few vague memories of what the story was about from a few times she'd heard people talking about it in some of her classes. Actually, if memory served, Luvia had actually mentioned it once or twice. Maybe that Finnish demon had her uses after all.

"Do you think you could help me with this?" Jeanne asked, looking up at Rin. "Supposedly, I'm to read this with an aim to consider the themes present in the novel and compare them to another piece of literature, but I'm unsure what these themes might be."

Rin found she couldn't help but smile. This book was thick, and it definitely looked boring, but she'd powered through harder material when she was still learning with her father, to say nothing of what she had to read for Zelretch. This would just be another challenge, but it would still be a break from some of the more trying material.

"Okay, Ruler. You're starting from the beginning, right?"

Jeanne nodded.

"Then I'll just start by explaining a few basics: Themes, in this regard, are recurring plot elements or concepts that arise over and over again throughout the story. In this, I've heard that one of the central themes is Justice as a concept?"

Shirou nodded. "Yeah, that's definitely one of them. Justice, what constitutes it, what lengths one is willing to go to in order to uphold it in their minds, and where it gets taken too far."

Rin quirked an eyebrow. "I think? It'd be smarter to just start reading and go from there. Once you get started, I should only need to help you a little. Unlike those math problems, you should be able to catch on to this."

Ruler grinned. "Thank you, Tohsaka. I really do appreciate this. I'm truly sorry for causing you so much trouble."

"You've already done me a pretty big favor. No need to apologize. So, shall we begin?"

"Of course."

Shirou headed back inside to continue cooking, but for now, Rin had to focus on the girl she was tutoring. It was clear to her that Jeanne had a long night ahead of her. But this would be a trifle compared to the challenges Rin expected they would all have to face.

Indeed, this was merely the first long night in a series of much, much longer ones.

* * *

 **New pieces arrive on the board and the other factions react to Periwinkle's arrival, all the while unaware that Periwinkle no longer exists. Poor Rin, she went to all that trouble and the other factions have no way of knowing they've changed their name.**

 **Trifas draws ever closer. What will happen there, who can say (other than me, of course, but I'm not telling).**

 **Thank you for Reading! I hope you enjoy what comes next!**

 **Go Forth and Conquer!**


	6. Chapter 6

**The chapter of August!**

 **P a treon: p a Treon.(c om) (backslash) themaster4444**

 **Beta-ed by Draconic**

* * *

 _Shirou found himself in a familiar world. Ever since his Grail War, he'd gone there every night, pulling new swords from the dusty terrain of the barren hill._

 _But it was not his Unlimited Blade Works he found himself in. Instead of an amber horizon, the sky was blotted out with huge, billowing clouds of steam and soot. Giant gears towered above him in the distance, the massive mechanisms slowly churning about like the bellows of a mighty forge._

 _Shirou couldn't help but smile just a bit. The last time he was here, the gears had been rusted and stalled. He was glad to know that even if this world was still that of a machine, its owner had at least regained the will to move forward. He didn't know how long it would be for, and Rin didn't tell him what she spoke of with this world's owner, but she had assured Shirou that this man had been sorted out._

 _Speaking of…_

 _"I certainly didn't expect to see you here again."_

 _Shirou looked up at a massive barren hill, the only natural protrusion in the otherwise flat and desolate expanse. At its blade covered peak was the speaker, a tall, dark-skinned man with silver hair and a crimson mantle._

 _Though it had been years since they'd last seen each other, Shirou could never forget him. After all, the man was him._

 _He strode over to the bottom of the hill._

 _"No offense intended, but I just want to confirm," Shirou began with a wary expression, "that you aren't going to try and kill me the moment I come up there. Are you?"_

 _"If you mean to ask whether I'd take issue with it, I certainly wouldn't have any problem maiming you, but I get the impression even that would upset a certain pair of women."_

 _Shirou realized, with some mild irritation, that he actually found that slightly amusing._

 _He climbed the mild slope of the hill to join the Heroic Spirit at the top. For a while, they just stood there, side by side, gazing at the sparse rays of light that just barely managed to pierce through the soot-plagued firmament._

 _"How is Rin?" Archer inquired._

 _Shirou smirked. Of course he'd ask that. There weren't all that many people he gave a damn about. "She's Rin," he said, "She's brilliant. That scheming sort of clever that makes you worry about what she might be plotting and whether you're already her accomplice. Strong. Always trying put up a front in the hopes that no one will realize she cares."_

 _"Does she still stand around with a dumbstruck look on her face when certain people make novice mistakes?"_

 _"Thinking of anyone in particular?"_

 _"Whatever would give you that idea?" the man smirked, not caring whether he was caught in such a blatant lie. "And does she still get flustered by the most benign things?"_

 _"She's been getting better," Shirou insisted._

 _"She's more or less unshakable," Archer chuckled. "But if what you're suggesting is that she doesn't break out in a cold sweat at the mere thought of using a cellphone, I'll believe_ _that_ _when I see it."_

 _"That's an entirely different subject. But yes, she still has a gift for technology."_

 _They stood together in silence. Most would consider such a situation awkward, but with the two of them it was certainly an improvement to their usual relationship._

 _Neither of them could tolerate the other. Archer was living proof that Shirou's dream would never bring him peace, while Shirou was an indisputable reminder to Archer that despite the pain it brought him, his path had not been wrong. They were perversions of each other in a way, the boy determined to save everyone, and the man who cursed the fact that he'd tried. Yet, despite their distortions, they were natural extensions of each other, the beautiful beginning and the tragic conclusion of the path of heroism._

 _Perhaps that was why they were managing to tolerate each other. Though they could never wholly accept each other, they could acknowledge the other's strengths, and through them, both grow stronger. And more importantly, there was their mutual bonds with both Rin and Saber. Even if they might never truly be friends, they were not the mortal adversaries they once were._

 _Truly, there was tranquility to be had in making peace with yourself._

 _Still, Shirou doubted he was here by coincidence. He didn't know how long this dream—if that's what it was—would last. So he couldn't afford to waste any more time. He needed to learn everything he could, especially with Ruler's revelation hanging over him._

 _"Do you know what we're doing right now?" he asked. "About the Great Holy Grail War?"_

 _Archer shrugged. "Bits and pieces. Someone has established a connection of sorts between us. I'm not quite sure of its full capabilities, but I've caught a few glimpses of events through your eyes."_

 _Shirou sighed. "Quite the mess I've gotten us into."_

 _"Probably not as much as you think."_

 _Shirou raised an eyebrow. "I don't remember you as the cocky type. Saber's strong and Rin's smart but we're still massively outnumbered—"_

 _"Not that, you idiot," Archer snapped. "Your situation is as stupidly dire as you think it is. I just mean that much less of this is likely to be your fault than you think."_

 _"What do you mean?" Shirou inquired. "_ _I_ _was the one who agreed to interfere in this war when Zelretch offered._ _I_ _dragged Tohsaka and Saber into this mess."_

 _Archer rolled his eyes. "Saber could not have been summoned unless she chose to pursue another war, and Rin would have dragged you back by your earlobes if she thought this was too much for you all. Besides, the Kaleidoscope has killed beings you couldn't even comprehend. He's traversed worlds that would atomize you the moment you appeared in them. And despite his childish façade, he would not send the two of you here on a mere whim."_

 _"Really?"_

 _"Okay, he would," Archer conceded. "But despite his apparent irreverence, it's more than likely that he had a greater purpose in mind for sending you to this war. Rin knows that whatever purpose that is, it is likely too important to risk disrupting."_

 _Shirou frowned. "He just said he was bored."_

 _"He probably was. He killed two birds with one stone. Though I'm not sure if it counts if one of the birds intentionally flies headlong into the stone."_

 _Shirou rolled his eyes. "And this?" he raised his right hand, his black Command Seals in full view._

 _Archer pulled away slightly in distaste as he saw them. "Those…would seem to be the source of our link."_

 _"Do you know what they are?"_

 _"I have seen them across a smattering of timelines. Not very often. Suffice to say, take care not to use all of them. Our unique relationship should make the transformation a bit easier than usual, but I don't know if it will prevent you from being affected by the usual negative side effects."_

 _Shirou glared at his alternate future counterpart. "Are you actually going to tell me what they are?"_

 _Archer smirked, a devilish glint he must have learned from Rin gleaming in his eyes. "Dead Count Shapeshifter Command Spells. Think of them as a power up of sorts. Use them to order your body to become stronger."_

 _"Stronger how?"_

 _The gears of Unlimited Blade Works clanged with the rhythm of a mechanical heart. Like two battleships scraping against each other. The soot filled sky flashed an ethereal white._

 _Archer grinned. "It seems our time is ending. Just do me a favor. If you have to use a catchphrase, and knowing Zelretch, he'll make you use a catchphrase, at least try to make better than his last pawn's."_

 _Shirou abruptly felt as though he were being tugged away by some invisible hand. He flew through the air, dragged farther and farther away until Archer was just a pinprick on the horizon._

 _"What are you talking about?" he yelled with all his might. "What do they do exactly? Why do they make a link between us? And why the hell would you care about a catchphrase?"_

 _Even with the titanic distance between them, he somehow heard Archer's snarl. "For Great Justice."_

 _Shirou only had a moment to wonder what the Counter Guardian was talking about before his vision went blank._

* * *

 _ **FATEFATEFATEFATEFATEFATE**_

Saber glanced to the sidecar as Shirou awoke, his perplexed gaze seemingly puzzled by the slumbering Rin in his lap.

"For great justice?" he muttered sleepily.

"Shirou, I hadn't realized you were awake."

"I just woke up, I think," he said blearily.

"What was that you were saying a moment ago?"

"I… honestly have no idea, but it sounds compelling and at the same time, terrible."

The party of four was close to Trifas, perhaps only an hour away. Since they couldn't afford to delay any longer and Saber didn't require sleep, she had offered to continue driving the group while the others rested. Thus, she found herself chauffer as Shirou and Rin slept in the sidecar and Ruler draped over her back. The Saint was tied to both Saber and the motorcycle with a collection of rope provided by the last motel's staff, grateful for Shirou's cooking, and reinforced by Rin. So far, it had done well at keeping its passenger from falling off in the face of the brisk breeze of the road.

Saber had expected Ruler to be the first to wake, given her more convoluted position, though Shirou was always one for punctuality even in sleep. But that combined with the unusually grim expression on his face worried the King of Knights.

"Are you alright, Shirou?" Saber inquired.

Shirou took a few deep breaths and nodded. "Yeah. I'm… I'm fine. I just had a weird dream. A vision, I think."

"A vision? Of what?"

"Archer."

Saber's eyes widened. "Did he—"

"No, he didn't attack me again. I think he's over that phase," Shirou assured her. He lifted up his right hand, the one with his strange black Command Seals. "He said these things formed some sort of link between us."

"A link? Does that mean you can summon him to aid us?"

"I'm not sure. But he didn't seem to think so. He called them Dead Count Shapeshifter Command Spells. Apparently, they're supposed to give some sort of power boost."

Saber's eyes narrowed in concern. "You should be careful. The Kaleidoscope's letter said there was a high probability of those seals killing you if you use them all. Not to mention whatever danger Ruler's vision implied."

They had no way of knowing whether the Saint's premonition was literal or metaphorical, but either way, it was not a warning to take lightly. And if Archer would not be making an appearance himself in the Great Holy Grail War, that meant that Shirou was the most likely target of the impending turmoil. The defeat at the hands of this silver-haired man.

Could the vision have been referring to Saber of Black? No. Though his hair was certainly the right color, there wasn't a trace of red in his color scheme as Jeanne's vision described.

It was fortunate. She would hate to have to snuff him out prematurely if he really was the one destined to kill Shirou. Saber had found Siegfried to be a chivalrous and honorable warrior, one who she felt she could duel again with great pleasure and respect. Indeed, even with the conspiracy against Ruler and the titanic danger afoot—not to mention Mordred making Wallachia her stomping grounds—the King of Knights found that her opponents so far had been nothing but the highest caliber, both in skill and character.

It was an exquisite boon. In her past Grail Wars, she had met few whom she looked forward to facing. Merely fiends to be defeated like the Casters and Gilgamesh. The opportunity to have a true battle with Ireland's Child of Light had never arisen and both of her duels with Assassin had been marred by her need to get past him and assist the others.

And in the war before that, there had been Diarmuid and—

No.

She couldn't think about that… that travesty. That horror.

Even now, she did not know what to think of her first Master, Kiritsugu Emiya. Irisviel had believed in him, and even she could see there was truth in his desire to save mankind. When they'd argued over the worth of chivalry, she'd seen that he'd not always been the broken, merciless soul she'd known. He'd been a good man once. A man made to do desperate, monstrous things in pursuit of the beautiful dream he longed for.

She sometimes wondered who had won out in the end: the man or the monster. Had he ordered her to destroy the Grail just to spite her, or had he learned of its corruption and refused the wish of damnation it offered? Gilgamesh's gloating had implied the latter, but when she remembered how far he'd been willing to go, what he did to Diarmuid… she still wondered if it hadn't been too high a price.

There were many reasons she didn't sleep at night.

She glanced over at Shirou, who gazed softly at Rin as she slept.

Saber smiled. How foolish of her. Kiritsugu could not have desired the corruption's birth. No one who capable of raising someone as wonderful as Shirou could have possibly have been so heartless. Kiritsugu destroyed the Holy Grail to save the world. He had destroyed _her_ for a time, but that was a small price to pay and she had healed through her time with Rin and his son.

She often wondered if she should tell Shirou about her experiences with his father, but in the end, she always decided against it. From what she had heard, they had practically known two different men. She did not wish to sully the memory of the savior he knew with the mercilessly pragmatic assassin he once was.

Unless he asked. Then she would be honor bound to tell him all the embarrassing stories. His cigarettes, his romantic talks with Irisviel when they thought she wasn't listening, his adorable playtime with that daughter of his. She wondered whatever had happened to that girl. Suffice to say, Shirou would get a very interesting picture of his father by the time she was done. And she would have her just revenge on her former Master.

The thought brought a wide grin to her face.

"Are you okay? You seem distracted."

"You have nothing to worry about," she smiled.

"Don't worry, Saber. Whatever's coming, I'm sure we can face it together," Shirou declared.

Saber blinked. "What? Oh, yes. Of course, Shirou. I have no doubt."

They continued their drive in silence, thoughts of Kiritsugu swirling around in her head. Perhaps she should have known better than to dwell on the subject…

Kiritsugu seemed intent on using the Holy Grail to save the world. Even if it had offered him some toxic solution to bring about world peace, what could it possibly have shown him, short of omnicide, that would make him abandon it altogether? And yet, did she really have to wonder? She'd seen for herself; that _thing_ coming out of the lake. That… cancerous abomination. And a worse thought occurred to her: As the Grail herself, did that mean that upon becoming it, Irisviel had been twisted into _that_ in some form? Was there more to it at the time than the golden chalice that Gilgamesh had so infuriatingly prevented her from reaching?

Assuming Kiritsugu had somehow witnessed such a thing, it would be entirely possible that he would reject it. But then… how could he have done that? There was no creature during the Fourth War. More importantly though… was that what became of her friend? The price she paid for her precious daughter's life?

What kind of nightmare must Iri have been subjected to in that eternal instant after her death? Had she seen the Grail for what it was before she became it, or was she simply transfigured without any realization that something irreplaceable had been stolen from her? She felt her gorge rise and covered her mouth with one hand, keeping the handlebars steady with the other. This was a bad train of thought. She had to stop this. She would go around in circles, and she knew where that would lead. She took deep breaths. But she was already sweating and wouldn't have been surprised if she looked feverish. And she had only moments ago told Shirou that he had nothing to—

"Saber, what's wrong?!"

Shirou's voice jerked her out of her poisonous reverie. She abruptly realized, looking at the speedometer, that she'd been accelerating dangerously. And keeping steady with only one hand no less! Fine if she were on her own, but with _passengers?_ The sidecar looked just about ready to detach. She quickly took some pressure off the gas pedal and gently applied the brakes.

More deep breaths. But it was futile for her to try and simply stop thinking about it. She had to think of something else. _Anything_ else.

"I…" she stammered, "I'm sorry to have worried you. You could say that I accidentally indulged in a very bad habit without realizing it."

It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the whole truth either. She already felt guilty.

"It's okay if you can't talk about it right now. Whenever you're ready, Tohsaka and I'll be around to listen."

Saber felt some of her muscles relax. Not entirely, but it was a start. The ill expression she wore slowly gave way to a more neutral one.

"Thank you, Shirou. I assure you, I'll be fine… although, perhaps it might be best if I kept my mind occupied."

"Sure, I guess. Anything you want to talk about?"

They were cruising along at a much safer speed now, and she carefully began to push on the gas again. It was surprising that neither Rin, nor Ruler had woken up. Or if they had, they were doing their best to get back to sleep. To be perfectly honest, Saber had hoped that Shirou might have brought up a topic himself. His response had been a little disappointing. However, feeling Ruler's weight against her back, she remembered something.

"Actually, yes. There was something that I have been wondering since dinner last night," Saber noted. "How did you know so much about that book Ruler had to read? _Les Misérables_ , was it?"

"That? Oh, I've read it before. You could say it used to be one of my favorites when I was younger. After Kiritsugu died and I decided to be a Hero of Justice, I figured I should look into ideas about what justice was," Shirou explained. A happy chuckle escaped his lips. "Fuji-nee was trying to read it back then, but she kept getting frustrated. She wondered why she had to read something in English that was originally written in French."

Saber raised an eyebrow. "I was unaware Taiga could read French."

"Oh, she can't. And she wasn't. The book was in English. But she found it so boring that she had me read it and tell her what happened."

"You read it back then?" Saber recalled the enormous size of the volume Jeanne had been holding. It was nearly as thick as some of Merlin's magic tomes. Or his black book… "How did you read something that size when you were so young? In a language you were unfamiliar with no less?"

"A lot of persistence and an inability to know when to quit? Call me stubborn, I guess. I had to keep one of Fuji-nee's English textbooks on hand to get through it, but after a while, I just got into the story and its ideas." A frown suddenly marred Shirou's face. "I reread it after our war. After Archer."

"Why?"

Shirou shrugged. "I guess… I was a little confused. I knew that being a Hero of Justice, that trying to save everyone, was impossible, but I also knew that it was still an ideal worth striving for. That's enough for me, but sometimes… sometimes I wonder what I would have to sacrifice in order to pursue that dream."

"What do you mean?" Saber inquired. She had never known Shirou to hesitate when it came to his goals. When the chance came to try to save someone, he jumped in without a second thought. He never even considered the cost to himself, at least not during the war. Maybe Rin had been more successful at getting through to him than she thought.

"After the fire, after I sacrificed everything I had to survive, and left everything… every _one_ … else behind, I didn't think I deserved anything good. A normal life, friends, loved ones, simple things that made life worth living, I didn't feel like I could have that if the people who died that day couldn't."

"Shirou, that's preposterous," Saber declared immediately. "You did not kill those people, the corruption of the Grail did. Surviving that horror is not a crime."

' _As the one who destroyed it_ ,' she thought, ' _it might even be more appropriate to blame me for that disaster_.'

"Yeah. I know that now. What I went through with you and Rin taught me that," Shirou pointed out. His frown didn't go anywhere though. "But that doesn't change the fact that I have so many things as I am right now. I have Rin, my job with Luvia, our life at the Clock Tower. And I'm happy. But I'm not… satisfied. I'm doing what I need to be doing. But I'm not chasing my dream."

"You… you wish to leave the Clock Tower?" Saber asked. She looked down at her Master with concern. "To leave Rin?"

"No!" Shirou responded fervently. "No. I don't ever want to leave Rin. It's just… on the one hand, how can I be a Hero of Justice if I stay safe with her? But on the other, how can I be a good man if I walked out on the woman I love to go save strangers?"

Saber considered these for a moment. "Neither of those are without merit. Though they are also not without fault."

Shirou let out a humorless chuckle. "Yeah. That's what I got from the book too. The hero was good and kind to everyone he met, but he was also a criminal on the run from the law. When the policeman pursuing him kept to the law to the letter and devoted himself to justice but found that he was not doing good anymore."

The two friends stewed in silence, the rush of the wind and the snores of their companions serving as their only company.

At last, Saber noted their route to Trifas, and the massive citadel that towered above it, was nearing its end. "We should rouse the others. We'll be at Trifas soon and I don't think they would like to be rudely awakened."

"Right." Shirou made to wake Rin, then paused. "Saber, what you mean by 'rudely awakened?'"

"I will be approaching the castle through the forest," Saber explained. "Even if the Black Faction may be discouraged from firing on us with Ruler present, I'd rather not give them the opportunity to catch us on the road."

Shirou appeared to give this some thought. He looked up at her with an uneasy expression.

"I mean, I get where you're coming from, but… yeah… I can see why you'd want everyone to be awake for this."

She nodded, feeling Ruler shift slightly behind her as Shirou gently shook Rin by the shoulder.

"Rin, time to wake up," he called softly.

"Nnngh… are we there already?" she mumbled.

A nervous chuckle. "Not quite, but you definitely want to wake up."

"Why?" she asked, suddenly alert and looking around. "We look like we're still in the middle of nowhere."

Saber unfastened the rope tying Ruler securely into place behind her. The other Servant blinked, rubbing her eyes and arching her back.

"Can I trust that you can keep pace with me on foot now that you've gotten some rest?" Saber asked.

Ruler nodded. "Is there a reason for us all being woken up at this time?" she inquired.

"Indeed. We will be making our final approach using these trees as cover. As I told Shirou moments ago, I intend to give them a less viable opportunity to spot us before we engage them."

Rin gave her the same worried look that Shirou had given her a minute earlier.

"Okay, I guess… I mean… you've got a stellar rank on your Riding ability, so I guess this shouldn't be a problem?"

Saber smiled reassuringly at her master. She had failed Diarmuid and Lancelot in the Fourth War, and she'd barely succeeded in the Fifth. Even with Shirou's dilemma, she couldn't allow such disreputable fates to befall any of her allies in this Great War, especially not her Masters.

Her friends.

And of course, she wanted to see what her bike could do off-road. It was sure to be great fun for all!

"Please take care to hold on tightly," said Saber, grinning as she maneuvered the machine so that the front wheel and those of the sidecar were off the pavement. An absurd task for a regular human, but for one with her strength, not nearly as much.

Rin gripped the front of the sidecar. Off at their side, Ruler took a stance as she prepared to break into a dash beside them.

She took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and…

The engine rumbled as she accelerated, a spray of dirt flying out from the front wheel as it found traction on the softer ground. Yes, she expected she could go a bit faster until they reached the tree line.

For a moment, she thought Rin might have said something.

It was probably her imagination.

* * *

 _ **FATEFATEFATEFATEFATEFATE**_

"Hey, Missy?"

 _"What, Rider?"_

"I'm bored."

 _"Perhaps you should have thought of that before you invited yourself on this mission._ _My_ _mission, I might add."_

Achilles sighed. You know, on paper, this whole Great Holy Grail War had seemed like a fantastic idea. He'd get to come back to life, see the modern world, fight a menagerie of worthy opponents, and maybe even achieve his dream of being a hero that he'd failed to be in life when he'd fallen into wrathful vengeance after Patroclus' death. What he'd done to the Prince of Troy afterward, desecrating his body as he had, was unforgivable. His only hope was that fate gave him a chance to earn redemption in this new life.

And at first, it seemed like everything was going smoothly. Sure, Caster was a tad grating, and he wasn't sure if Berserker knew how to get through ten minutes without raving about defeating 'the oppressor,' whoever or whatever he meant by that… but that was a complete nonfactor compared to his Archer teammate.

He got to work with Atalanta. _The_ Atalanta! The Chaste Huntress herself! His father had raised him on stories of his adventures with the Argonauts, and there were none save maybe Hercules that Peleus spoke of in more glowing terms. And the follow-up tale about their reunion during the hunt for the Calydonian Boar was even more incredible, with Atalanta being the first among dozens of mighty heroes to wound the nearly invincible beast, crucially wounding it before it was slain.

When he was a boy, before he'd been sent off to his teacher—and a few more times after that, if he was being honest—he'd played pretend that he was teaming up with his heroes, going on grand quests against monsters and saving innocents. Now, his dream was coming true in the best way possible. He felt like a kid again.

All the more reason to rein himself in. He didn't want to agitate present company.

Plus, Atalanta was ten times more beautiful than even his father's glorious descriptions. Maybe if he was lucky and persisted with his flirting, he could get a kiss from his hero before the war was over.

That being said, she was pretty high strung. And from what he knew about her relationship with men, as a collective, she was going to make that a positively herculean challenge.

 _Challenge accepted!_

But there was also _that_ problem. As soon as he was summoned, something was already not as it should have been. His Master, whoever he was, hadn't even been present when he'd appeared. Instead, all he got was a mental command that told him to take orders from Assassin of Red's Master, the priest, Shirou Kotomine. And that guy was just… off. He had no idea why he didn't trust the white-haired man—not _yet—_ but the way he was holding him back from engaging the Black Faction wasn't winning him any points.

Hell, he was so bored that he'd nearly thanked the gods when Caster goaded Berserker into going on a rampage. Though Archer had been the one ordered to go after the maddened gladiator before he messed everything up, there was no way Achilles was going to miss an opportunity to both hang out with the lauded Huntress of Arcadia and maybe get to see some action while he was at it.

Unfortunately, Berserker of Red had quickly been overwhelmed by Rider, Caster, and Lancer of Black. That last one especially. Vlad the Impaler certainly lived up to his name. Spartacus had barely had time to move, much less attack once the King of Romania arrived and skewered him, with Caster sealing him in some sort of golem. Rider had retreated back to Millennia Citadel, but Lancer had remained to guard Caster and three of the Black masters while they did something to Berserker. Mages… always making everything so complicated…

Personally, he wanted to charge in and rescue their comrade, but Archer had convinced him otherwise. Outnumbered as they were, engaging a foe as powerful as Lancer of Black was unjustifiably reckless. Sure, he would be fine unless the King of Romania figured out to aim for his heel, but Archer didn't share his protection. She was incredible in her own ways but engaging a group that strong on their home turf, especially when their most dangerous opponent got an intense boost in strength just for being there was a fool's errand. As a huntress, Atalanta knew how to gauge the strength of her mark, so if she called for a retreat, he'd trust her judgment.

Besides, it wasn't as if he wouldn't still get to deal with their pursuers.

He had branched off from Atalanta and waited for the Servants of Black to come after him, letting his partner get as much distance from them as possible. She was a perfectly capable combatant, but if they had to choose between their foes attacking her, with her rather negligible endurance, or him, with his _slight_ advantage of being _literally invincible_ , the choice was obvious.

Finding a small, but suitable clearing, he'd stopped running and leaned up against a tree, whistling absently. Now if only those enemy Servants weren't taking so damn long to reach him.

A scattering of blue sparks caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. He smirked. What was that modern saying? Speak of the devil and he shall appear?

He turned towards his opponents, a tall knight in hulking gray armor and… some girl in a wedding dress with hubcaps sticking out of the sides of her head? Huh, that was a new one. But he was trained by a horse-man, so who was he to judge, really?

He twirled his spear at his side. "Hey there, you two! Let's see, a Saber and a Berserker, huh?" His fingers flexed against his weapon, a familiar sensation of bloodlust welling up inside him in anticipation of the imminent clash.

Still… "Well now, seems like I'm being underestimated. Did they really think two Servants would be enough?" a savage grin spread across his face. "I can't help but be a bit insulted!"

His opponents raised their weapons, a gigantic greatsword in the Saber's case and a strangely designed mace for the Berserker.

Achilles aimed his spear at them. "My class is Rider. But don't worry, I won't use a chariot. I hardly need it with only two of you here," he boasted. "Are you both prepared? I'll show you what it means to be a true warrior."

Saber of Black charged him then. He met the knight in the middle of the clearing. His spear darted towards the larger man, but he skillfully parried every stab. His strength was even sufficient to push Achilles back for a moment. Both of them were focused on attacking, to the point that their attacks weren't so much being blocked so much as they as they were crashing into each other. He found himself laughing with exhilaration; this Servant was truly worthy of being a member of the strongest class.

The Hero of Troy was thrilled. That just meant he had to hold back even less to make it an entertaining fight.

He dashed back in with more of his famous speed, mixing in some of teacher's Pankration with his bladework. Berserker of Black charged in to catch him flatfooted and swung her mace at Achilles' head. Very slowly. He had more than enough time to dish out a flurry of swift strikes as she approached, quickly overwhelming Saber of Black's defenses and pushing him back, though Achilles noted that his hits didn't seem to be doing any damage.

Truth be told, Berserker's attack wasn't actually particularly slow. She was still a Servant, meaning her strike was coming at him with enough speed to shatter a boulder. It was just that he was used to spotting attacks a whole lot faster. He dodged. Too quickly. From her perspective, it would have been almost as though he had dodged her attack before she even swung. If that was the best that bride could do, it wasn't even worth his time to drag out the fight. Was she even a Berserker? If this was her speed after having her stats boosted by Madness Enhancement, how in the world did she even qualify as a Heroic Spirit in the first place? It was as though this Berserker was only a Berserker because her stats wouldn't even qualify as a Servant's without the boost.

Still, toying with her would be an insult to them both. This was going to be difficult. Like, Teacher's twenty-four-hour arrow dodging course difficult. Now, how to make it look like he wasn't making fun of the poor girl?

She came in with another swing. He ducked under her attack, slowly, and kicked her aside, jetting in as though to finish off the mad Servant.

Saber of Black took issue with that. He rushed behind Rider, taking advantage of the Greek's blind spot to get close, and swung his sword in a heavy arc.

Unfortunately for him, his teacher's training had covered using all the senses, not just the eyes. Achilles felt the rush of the wind from Saber's charge brush across the back of his neck and he whirled around, catching the knight's wrist as he was winding up for another slash with his sword.

"Is that all you've got?" he taunted. "You're nowhere near qualified to fight against me!"

With a victorious smirk, Achilles stabbed his spear into Saber's shoulder with all his strength.

And it did absolutely nothing.

The Rider took half a moment to be surprised, which had the unfortunate side effect of allowing Saber to break free, immediately taking a swipe at him once he did, forcing him to retreat a bit to reevaluate his opponent.

His attack hadn't been weakened, it just hadn't even scratched Saber's armor. Now that was impressive. A similar technique to his own invincibility no doubt, though likely not as powerful. Still, if he and the knight before him were anything alike, and their brief clash had made it quite clear that they were, then he would be praying to meet someone who could hurt him regardless.

After all, that's what he did every night. Shame they couldn't give each other the kind of thrill they were both seeking; the rush that came from knowing that your life could end at any moment—that the only things between you and the end were your skill, a thin layer of armor, and a bit of luck.

"I see you take pride in endurance as well," Achilles remarked. "Looks like we're in for a long fight."

 _'Rider, prevent Saber of Black from moving,'_ Atalanta ordered. _'He's immune to your strength. But there's nothing my arrows can't pierce.'_

Achilles chuckled. Missy wanted to test the limits of Saber of Black's invincibility. Smart move. While his brute strength couldn't break through, her fully drawn arrows actually had more bite to them than he could manage to dish out on his own. It would be good to know if they would be sufficient or if they would need Lancer to break out that god killer of his for this guy.

He heard Berserker of Black before he saw her as she staggered back to her feet. She snarled at the Hero of Troy, though whether for her fall or for being disregarded afterward, he couldn't say.

Saber however, remained completely stone faced, not a hint of joy, anger, or any emotion playing across his body. He was an experienced warrior alright. Perhaps too experienced.

Achilles shrugged. If he was keeping the guy distracted, no reason why he couldn't offer some advice. "Those who don't laugh on the battlefield may forget how to when they reach Elysium," he warned. "So, try to laugh a little before you die."

Saber lowered his head for a moment, seeming to contemplate his suggestion. "Laughing on the battlefield could be seen as an insult to the opponent."

For the love of the gods, it was like Odysseus all over again. All grim and serious. You know, for the craftiest trickster Achilles ever met, that guy really should have had more fun. Maybe pranked someone now and again. It wasn't like anything really bad ever happened to the guy. Though now that he thought about it, he really did have to get around to looking up what happened to his old war buddies after he died.

But that was business for later. Right now, he needed to help Saber of Black. And then kill him, naturally.

"That's true," he conceded. "But it can also lead to salvation."

Something whistled past his ear in an explosion of turquoise light.

Saber's steely eyes widened as the arrow drove clear through his shoulder, and he skidded backward as its momentum carried him along with it. He grunted as he smashed into a wide tree trunk, into which the arrow had lodged itself.

The important thing though was that Saber was bleeding and had both an entry and an exit wound.

Achilles smirked. Not so invulnerable after all. While he hadn't been torn in half like most would when struck by that kind of attack, he had still been wounded. That meant Achilles could take him easily, he'd just need to bust out his shield. Though it was too early in the war to use his strongest Noble Phantasm. While Saber of Black was certainly a worthy opponent to face the divine construct, if he used it so soon and revealed his true identity, every idiot in the entire war would know his weakness, to say nothing of how he'd be laughably easy prey for Vlad the Impaler.

"A focused attack from Missy worked perfectly, as expected."

Berserker of Black hefted her mace and snarled at him.

Achilles leveled his spear. "Since our side just lost its Berserker, seems only fair that you lose yours as well. Isn't that right?"

His comment was not taken lightly. Berserker of Black roared, the head of her mace opening up to reveal some form of mechanical chamber. A tempest of emerald electricity coalesced around the bride, sparking off her weapon in random bolts of lightning, each one powerful enough to horde of mortal men.

Achilles feigned interest.

Suddenly Saber stepped forward, forcing himself to move. He pulled himself away from the tree, the arrow tearing at his flesh with each step until it came free of the bark. His actions seemed strangely involuntary, but that was none of Rider's concern. Having freed himself, he raised his sword to the sky. A gem on the hilt glowed, and a tower of blazing pale blue energy erupted from the blade.

Achilles grinned. "Heh! Just try it. Show me your Noble Phantasm!"

This was a fortuitous turn of events. While Saber's strike would no doubt be powerful, his sword's inability to harm the Hero of Troy made it moot. All his attack would do would force him to reveal the name of his weapon, and by extension, his own True Name. Maybe the priest wouldn't get on their case too much for losing Berserker if they brought back such valuable intel on the enemy's second strongest Servant.

Saber's face contorted with effort, furious sweat dripping down his brow. He resisted every inch his sword rose. He must have already deduced that his weapon couldn't harm Rider of Red. His master was likely less observant and was forcing him to use his Noble Phantasm with a Command Seal, a theory which could be supported by his jerky, forced movement.

What a shame. Still, half of war was taking advantage of the enemy general's stupidity. In the end, every Servant was a foot soldier, for good or ill. A shadow of the dead to be commanded by the living.

Saber's lips opened involuntarily. _"_ _ **Bal**_ _—"_

The turquoise glow of the greatsword suddenly extinguished. Saber of Black sagged in relief, staggering to his knees. A few moments later, he disappeared in a shower of sapphire sparks.

Achilles sighed. "How disappointing," he remarked to Berserker of Black. "He may have been able to put a scratch on me with a godslaying Noble Phantasm like that."

Not realistically speaking, of course. But it was better they think he was just cocky instead of giving them a possible hint to his identity.

"Now, where were we?"

Berserker of Black snarled at him, her weapon at the ready. It was valiant. Even through her madness, she must have known she didn't have a chance, yet she was ready to continue fighting until she drew her last breath. Whatever she was, maybe it was that dauntless spirit rather than her skill as a warrior that marked her as worthy of the title of hero.

Pity. That wasn't nearly enough to actually give him a good fight. Granted, with his invincibility, what could?

An arrow streaked through the sky and smashed into his armor, penetrating all the way to his flesh.

And… _into_ his flesh?

" _What?_ "

Berserker of Black took advantage of his momentary distraction and charged past him, howling at the trees.

Achilles paid her no heed. The Berserker might have been wearing a wedding dress, but she was still a beast. Or put another way, whatever else she might have been, to Atalanta, she was little more than prey. She could handle a few lightning bolts and poorly aimed swipes from a ball on a stick. For now, he needed to focus all his attention on his new assailant.

A hail of arrows came plummeting down on him. He twirled his spear and deflected most of them, though a few still managed to scratch him. That proved that the last shot hadn't been a fluke. His opponent could bypass his invincibility. That meant that his bow or his arrows were divine constructs, much like Lancer of Red's armor and spear. Either that or the Archer himself had the blood of a god in his veins. And to fire his shots with such accuracy into a dense forest from so far away…

Achilles' heart soared. This was the kind of opponent he was looking for! He had no doubt that Archer of Black would make for a magnificent rival in this Great Holy Grail War.

Now if only he knew his name…

* * *

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Chiron wasted no time loading another volley of arrows into his bow. His old student had grown a great deal since he last saw him, birthed a vast legend of his own, and he had not been weak in training. If he let up for even a moment, he had no doubt Achilles would rush back to his ally's defense and eliminate Berserker. He'd saved Frankenstein from one of the other Archer's assaults already, but for now, she would have to deal with the second Servant of Red on her own.

It had been quite fortunate he'd recognized the Hero of Troy when he did. Had he been even a moment slower, Saber would have revealed his identity to the enemy. He'd alerted Lord Darnic to the futility of Siegfried's Noble Phantasm just before it had activated, and the leader of the Masters of Black had been able to cow Lord Gordes into canceling the order. It had cost two strokes of his Command Seal, an undoubtedly heavy price, but it was better than the enemy learning Saber's identity and knowing exactly where to aim to bypass his Armor of Fafnir.

The dragonslayer had been recalled immediately and Chiron had stepped forward to provide cover for Berserker from the castle battlements. Being the son of the Titan King Kronos, he was, for all intents and purposes, a brother to the Olympians. He might not qualify as a divine spirit, but his inherent Divinity trait was more than enough to break through Achilles' invincibility. He pinned down his old student easily enough, he had taught him his evasive maneuvers after all. He had a few new dodges and rolls, but nothing the teacher couldn't figure out quickly enough.

Eventually, he learned from Caster's familiars that Archer of Red had retreated. Soon enough, he saw Achilles whistle and a shower of emerald lightning erupted next to the Hero of Troy. The boy's mighty chariot emerged from the glow, pulled by a trio of mighty stallions, two of which Chiron sensed were as divine as their master.

"Isn't this wonderful, Archer of Black?" Achilles cheered. "Fighting against one who could best me was destined! Oh, Gods of Olympus, may you grant the both of us glory and sacred honor in this battle!"

He hopped onto the chariot and jetted away into the sky. "Let us settle this challenge next time! Perhaps then I'll get to see your face!"

Chiron kept his aim up until he was sure the Servants of Red had truly fled He noted a silver streak heading into the forest but it disappeared into the trees before he could track it. He'd have to alert Caster later and have him send out some familiars to look for it.

At last, he sighed, his shoulders sagging in relief.

' _Isn't it ironic, Achilles? Destiny will even bare its fangs at those like us, who are already dead.'_

They were beings whose threads Atropos had already cut. The Fates had no interest in them any longer. Yet it was already predetermined that he would have to be the one to face his former pupil. After all, no one else in the Black Faction would capable of taking on Achilles in a straight fight as long as he retained his invincibility. If Vlad knew where to aim, it was possible that he could hit his heel and deactivate the protection, but that would be easier said than done even for the King of Romania. And assuming that was somehow accomplished, Achilles was still perhaps the finest warrior he'd ever trained, surpassed only by Heracles himself.

No, this was his responsibility. He loved Achilles like a son, but there was no place for sentimentality in a Holy Grail War. They were Servants, and that title was a literal one. Their first loyalty, above all, was to their Masters, and by extension, their Faction. He was willing to stretch that duty for Astolfo and the homunculus boy, but he could not in good conscience refuse to fight his old student for Lady Fiore.

"Are you feeling okay, Chiron?"

A kind voice cut through Chiron's inner turmoil. He turned to face his Master and gifted Fiore a gentle smile. "Yes. It seems that the opponent I will be facing in this Great Holy Grail War has been determined."

His Master was a kind soul. Though her wish might have sounded selfish from an outside perspective, to walk on her own two feet without having to give up her magic circuits, he found that simple desire endearing. She had shown him nothing but respect and kindness since he was summoned, and he was grateful to fight the War at the side of a mage with a conscience. He'd even trusted her enough to disclose his own, similarly selfish wish: The reclamation of his immortality. While it might have appeared as though he were grasping at a life he'd given up of his own free will, in truth he did not regret that he had died. Rather that he had forsaken the only gift his parents had ever given him. For that, and for his master's happiness, he would endure any trial.

He would deal with his old student when the time came. Until then, he would rest and indulge himself in some warm tea. That would soothe his mind and allow him to focus on the long-term strategy of the war, a matter that required his utmost attention and skill.

 _"To all Masters of Yggdmillenia!"_ Darnic's voice rang through the Servant's mind. _"Rider is aiding in the escape of a homunculus. One that is very valuable to us. Make sure to bring him back alive."_

Chiron could only sigh as the voice subsided.

' _Astolfo…'_

* * *

 _ **FATEFATEFATEFATEFATEFATE**_

Step One! Heal the homunculus!

Step One-and-a-half! Realize that he, Astolfo, had the healing aptitude of a blender!

Step One-and-three-quarters! Bring the homunculus to Chiron so that _he_ could heal the homunculus!

Step Two! Get the homunculus out of range of Caster's bounded field and release him into the great, wide, wonderful world where he could frolic across grassy hills to his heart's content!

Hmm… it suddenly occurred to him that his brilliant plan _might_ have been missing a step…

Of course! How could he have forgotten?

He needed the homunculus to choose a name! 'Cause it'd totally feel weird to keep calling him 'the homunculus'. Gosh, that'd be demeaning.

The two of them dashed through the forest as fast as they could. Well, he did. The homunculus (real name TBD) mostly just stumbled forward with every step. Whenever he tripped, which was often, he would allow himself to be dragged along by the arm until he regained his footing without even voicing a complaint. Kind of creepy. Maybe homunculi didn't get friction burns?

The boy was desperately trying to keep a hold of the sword Astolfo had given him to protect himself. Before long, he noticed the poor kid was panting heavily. He came to a stop, letting the homunculus catch his breath.

"What's wrong?" he inquired worriedly. "Are you tired?"

"Is it… really alright for me to escape?" the boy asked between hungry breaths. His eyes held nothing but confusion. It had always been there, but Rider hadn't missed how it had really kicked into overdrive after they ran past a group of injured homunculi on their way out of the castle. Poor thing was probably questioning why he got to leave when all the others who were like him, even the ones who got hurt fighting that whacko Berserker of Red, had to stay.

Still, that didn't make it wrong for him to want his own freedom, so he answered immediately. "Of course, it's alright!"

The homunculus turned his head to the side, unconvinced. "Yeah, but… even if I do, I'm just going to die in three years. I can't make any difference in the world or even leave a footprint behind. If I were to continue to live, would there be any point?"

Rider cocked an eyebrow. "Are you saying you think you're not allowed to continue living in this world?"

"I just don't know," the homunculus muttered. "I don't know… anything."

Astolfo gave the poor boy his most kind and gentle smile. "You're not obligated to do any of that. Making a difference, dedicating yourself to someone, you do those 'cause you wanna!" He raised his arms, and continued pontificating, "You don't need a purpose; wanting to live is human nature! As long as your heart keeps beating, you should continue wanting to live from here on out!"

"I should continue… wanting to live?"

Oh, it was adorable how he repeated everything that was just said to him! It was less adorable that by his logic from a few moments ago, half the people on earth should just lay down and stop moving until they die, but hey, nobody's perfect.

Rider nodded his confirmation to the query. He had never sought out to be a hero when he began as an adventurer. He just went around having fun, helping people along the way, doing whatever he felt was best. And when he met Charlemagne, well, his path was set. Everything else just fell into place. He would have followed that man anywhere, even to the moon! Speaking of which, he should really look into making another visit there when he got the chance, that place was totally awesome!

"Um…Rider…"

Astolfo turned his head and followed his homunculus friend's gaze and saw a dozen of Caster's massive golems lumbering towards them.

The Paladin of Charlemagne conjured Trap of Argalia. "You sure are a popular guy."

* * *

 _ **FATEFATEFATEFATEFATEFATE**_

Siegfried hadn't had the best day.

True, there was nothing he could really complain about, but everything he'd been doing had been rather draining. After his magnificent duel with Lancer of Red and Saber of Periwinkle, he'd had high hopes for the Great Holy Grail War. He had not felt the exhilaration of facing someone strong enough to hurt him since he'd bathed in Fafnir's blood all those years ago. To encounter not just one, but _two_ foes of such astounding skill was a blessing handed down by the gods. The joy he gained from their titanic clash was nearly enough to relieve him of his concern over the truth of his wish, at least for a moment.

He simply didn't know what he wanted. He must have had a reason for joining the war, some desire that allowed the Grail to call him from the Throne of Heroes. But for the life of him, he just couldn't remember what his wish was. And he needed to remember as soon as possible. Not just for his own peace of mind, but because his master's inability to understand his motivation was putting a significant strain on their relationship. Though Gordes' order for him to remain silent (which he shamefully could not keep to during his battle with Karna and Saber of Periwinkle) did not help matters, but it was ultimately a symptom of the problem, not the cause. It was his responsibility to soothe that illness before another near-disaster like his duel with Rider of Red occurred.

Gordes was quite distressed about Lord Darnic's chastisement for that affair, so much so that he threw a glass at him when Siegfried arrived back in his master's private quarters. The man had collapsed into an armchair, nearly in tears. He would have done what he could to help his Master cope, he'd been unsettled ever since his loss to the warrior of Periwinkle, but he could not speak without violating the mage's prior command, something that he knew would only aggravate the poor man.

So he was trapped, unable to help his Master without disobeying him. A failure of a Servant. He was almost relived when the order came down to track down Rider and the homunculus he'd taken. That at least, he knew he could do.

The two of them ran through the woods, guided by a group of Caster's clay pigeon familiars. The rest of the faction was busy securing the captive Berserker of Red, but they would not be far behind. It was his and his master's responsibility to detain Rider until the others arrived.

When they arrived, Astolfo was surrounded by the scattered rubble of a group of Caster's golems, his lance lazily swung over his shoulder. Beside him, the young homunculus boy was bent over, keeping himself upright by pushing against his knees.

"Now then," Rider proclaimed, his back to the new arrivals. "Why don't we take a little break?"

Siegfried waited for Rider to notice his presence. It didn't take long for Astolfo to realize something was amiss and whirl around.

"Wait, Saber?!"

The homunculus's gaze followed Rider's, his eyes wide with astonishment and fright.

He found he didn't particularly like having that look directed at him.

" _I've found you!_ " Gordes cursed, panting heavily as he arrived on the scene. "Dammit… How dare they make me do such a stupid errand?"

Rider grimaced, a line of sweat dropping down his brow. "Hey, uh… You should run."

The boy didn't move.

"Saber!" Gordes commanded. "Hold Rider down!"

"What are you waiting for?" Rider questioned his young charge, "Hurry!"

Again, the homunculus remained motionless, his crimson eyes locked onto Siegfried. So he had a front row seat when the Saber charged Astolfo, slamming Balmung into the paladin's lance with enough strength to keep him pinned, though not enough to overpower him.

"Rider!" the boy called out in concern.

"I said run!" Astolfo demanded, his voice strained as he struggled to hold his own against the heavier, but far more effective weapon. "You want to live, don't you? So go! Get out! Now!"

Those words shocked the homunculus out of his stupor. The boy hugged a sheathed sword to his chest like a child would hold their favorite blanket and dashed off into the forest.

"Seriously?" Gordes complained as he gave chase. "How annoying!"

That left only Siegfried and Rider in the clearing, their blades locked in combat. They did not remain so for long.

Valiant as he was, Astolfo simply could not stand up against Siegfried's raw power and expertise, especially when the paladin wielded a weapon meant for mounted combat on foot. Before long, Saber held Balmung at his disarmed ally's throat.

Even flat on his back however, Astolfo was far from quiet. "Get out of my way, you idiot! I'm going to save him, no matter what!"

"For what reason?" Siegfried inquired. "Because he came to you and begged for help?"

That was the reason he had saved many during his life. After it became known that he was invincible, everyone wanted his help. After all, if it wouldn't hurt him to do it, what had they to fear by asking? So, he'd done as he was bid, even when he was asked to perform deeds of questionable morality. If one gave their life to the whims of others, to the ideals of justice, that was the only path.

But even then, he still felt there was something in his life that was unfulfilled, the reason he accepted the Grail's call. Why was he dissatisfied with his path?

"NO!"

Siegfried's eyes widened as his attention was drawn back to Astolfo's defiant stare.

"It was something _I_ decided of my own volition!" the paladin shouted. "Is it forbidden for a Servant to want to save someone? Are you telling me to just forget the benevolence, pride, and justice that I had in my lifetime? I'm one of the Twelve Paladins of Charlemagne! I'm Astolfo! I will not _abandon_ him! I swore that I wouldn't!"

Siegfried… paused. He closed his eyes and retracted his sword. He felt more than heard Rider gasp at his actions.

The idea… saving someone because _he_ wanted to. Not because someone else asked him to.

Yes. That was it.

"I remember my wish now…" he said. It didn't matter that no one was there to hear him say it.

The two of them raced off in the direction the others had went. What they found… was less than ideal.

Gordes was standing before a thick tree. His right arm and sleeve were badly blackened, and his entire body was shaking with shock.

And the homunculus was on the ground before the tree, eyes closed and unmoving, a thin trail of blood trickling down his face.

Rider rushed past the Master of Black and knelt by the boy's side. "It's you. Come on, it's time to wake up," he squeezed the boy's shoulder, "Hey, answer me! Come on, wake up!"

Siegfried went over to Gordes. "Master…"

The mage whirled around, his face panicked and his eyes wide with terror. "Had I not used my altered arm, he would have killed me for sure! It was self-defense! I'm not at fault here!"

Astolfo cried over the dying boy. "I'm sorry. I got here too late. This is my fault…" he continued apologizing over and over, the words 'I'm sorry,' becoming a mantra.

The wails of suffering innocents, the selfish yet blameless masses, begging him to solve their personal problems. Defeat the bandits in the mountains, bring this man's son home, avenge this woman's betrothed, slay a man to satisfy another's envy, find the herbs the apothecary needed to heal a boy's ailing father… they all melded together in an overwhelming cacophony of wishes. It was the final straw, not that it was needed.

"Master, are you able to do anything to heal that homunculus?" Siegfried inquired, receiving a grunt of incredulity from his Master. "I want to save that boy."

"What the hell are you on about, Saber?" Gordes raved, spittle flying from his mouth as his temper boiled over. "I didn't ask for your opinion, did I, you worthless Servant?! The only thing that you need to do is shut up and listen to my orders–uh…—"

Siegfried stepped into his master's personal space. The shorter man trembled, realizing for what may have been the first time just how much taller his Servant was than him.

"So, you won't save him?" Saber asked.

"I told you to shut upPFFFT—!"

With an almost casual nonchalance, Siegfried rammed his fist into his Master's gut, and the man passed out. He carefully caught his Master and laid him down on a patch of grass. His Master was far too stressed and plagued with guilt. Normally, he would try to console him or otherwise help him through it, but they simply didn't have the time. The homunculus was fading fast.

"What are you doing?" Rider muttered, his tear stained eyes wide with confusion.

"I have once again lost sight of my path," Siegfried explained. "He wished nothing of me, yet I nearly abandoned him. I stopped thinking for myself, and let others decide for me. I may be responsible for any misfortune he encounters, but… there is still something that I would like to present to him."

He needed to do this. It was going to be agonizing but needed to save him. Not because he was asked to. But because he didn't want this young boy to die before he had a chance to live. Against the endless possibilities of that, what did the sparse extra time of a person who'd already lived his life matter?

He took a moment to steady himself, to prepare for the pain. Then, he plunged his hand into his chest.

It hurt. It hurt more than anything he had ever been subjected to during his lifetime. His own legend of dragon slaying clawed through his dragon enhanced armor and muscles. His body screamed in agony at the paradox. But he did not stop. He needed to save him. He needed to give the boy a chance.

With a final gasp, he tore his own heart from his chest.

That's when the motorcycle crashed into the clearing.

* * *

 _ **FATEFATEFATEFATEFATEFATE**_

Rin was seriously starting to regret choosing a motorcycle for their group's transportation.

It wasn't that Saber was a bad driver, it was that she was way too _good_ a driver. And she knew it. The idea of racing down the highway at six times the speed limit and going off-roading through the Trifas forests didn't frighten her one bit, since she could handle it with ease. They only widened the smile on her face.

Unfortunately, no matter how expertly it was done, navigating at a not-so-insignificant speed through the bumpy maze of roots and hills was still hell on Rin's stomach.

She stumbled out of the side car and panted in the forest clearing. "Yeah, like I said right from the get-go, I regret that I ever agreed to that!"

"My apologies, Master," Saber bowed. "I merely wished for us to reach the location specified by Ruler's vision as quickly and safely as possible. We can rest a moment before continuing."

Rin winced, but she had to agree that Saber was making the right decision here. Whatever chaos came from driving through the forest, it was better than the alternative of approaching Trifas from the road and being wide open for the Black Faction's long-range defenses.

"Um, guys?"

"What is it, Shirou?"

"Ruler. Saber of Periwinkle."

Rin recognized the voice immediately, mostly because she didn't despise the fact that he'd called them their former color. She whirled around to where Shirou had pointed before. Her eyes widened.

Saber of Black stood over his unconscious Master, and there, glowing in his hand, was that his Master's—?! Rin felt a chill go up her spine as she realized that he _hadn't_ killed his Master. The only one among the players on this stage with a hole in their chest was Siegfried himself. Meaning…

"He… tore out his own heart?!" she shuddered.

Indeed, Siegfried held his own still beating heart, glowing crimson in his right hand. Across from him, an unconscious, wounded boy was leaned against a tree trunk, supported by a… girl? Boy? They had a long braid of pink hair, but Rin didn't see any curves. It was still an even chance for either gender, but she'd go with guy until she got confirmation one way or the other.

But this person's gender ambiguity, as fascinating as it had the potential to be, was not important right now. Back to the more pertinent and immediate issue of why Saber of Black had apparently gouged out his own heart.

"Saber of Black, what are you doing?" Saber demanded, horror on her lips.

Siegfried merely smiled, though it was obvious it was a feeble attempt at concealing immense pain. "That boy is a homunculus that wishes to live his own life. I wish to give him that chance."

The knight staunchly strode over to the injured boy, kneeled down, and plunged his heart into the boy's chest, shifting it into spirit form as it went so as to not destroy the child's body.

"He's… sacrificing his life for him…" Ruler murmured.

Shirou clenched one hand into a fist.

"He's saving him," Shirou muttered.

Saber gaped at Siegfried, shock, awe, and disbelief sharing her visage in equal measure.

"Master, he may be a Servant, but nevertheless, without his heart…"

"He'll die," Rin noted, keeping her tone even.

She should have been thrilled. Saber of Black was a dangerous opponent, possibly the greatest threat to Saber in the entire war. And here he was, killing himself for them. But he wasn't doing it for them. He was doing it to save a child, a homunculus no less, and one he didn't even know based off his vague description of him. He was dying because his life could purchase that of another.

He was dying to be a hero.

Rin recalled the events at Einzbern Manor from their war. Where Illya, another child, another homunculus, was butchered simply for her place in the Holy Grail War. How Shirou, brainless fool that he was, was still willing throw his life away to try and save her, or at least avenge her, even if he knew he didn't stand a chance in hell of succeeding.

And here she was, watching another brainless fool die to save someone. Only this time, she hadn't been there to hold this one down, not that she could have stopped a Servant anyway.

She could practically hear Archer shouting, ' _That idiot!_ '

The homunculus boy's chest flashed a strange turquoise glow, similar in color to Siegfried's arcane 'scar,' his body just barely containing the light. Seeing this, Rin realized that the only reason the heart transplant hadn't had the exact opposite effect from the one Siegfried intended was because this boy was a homunculus. Having a heroic spirit's heart forced into one's body was more than enough to kill a normal human, their spirits unable to accommodate the original host's history with the vast legend of the invader.

Rin was all set to write it off as a stroke of brazen luck, except then she noticed what else had appeared on his body. There on the back of his right hand, in a shape reminiscent of a dragon, were…

"Black Command Seals…" Shirou muttered in trepidation.

The pink-haired boy gazed at the homunculus in disbelief before whipping his head around to face Siegfried. "But what'll happen to you?"

Saber of Black smiled. He staggered back and took a seat on a nearby pile of rocks.

"One life is sacrificed to save another. That is an equivalent exchange," Siegfried dourly noted. "Quite fair, is it not, Rider?"

"No, it's not," the pink haired boy, presumably Rider of Black, retorted.

"Why would you do such a thing?" Ruler whispered.

Siegfried grinned at her and Saber. "I wanted to be able to fulfill my own wish, instead of only allowing myself to grant the wishes of others. Perhaps it was extremely self-centered of me, but I could not rid myself of this desire: If only once, I wanted to save someone of my own will, to be able to experience that pride. Even if no one begged me to. Even if my efforts were unwanted. This is all I have been wishing to do for such a long time."

"You did it," Shirou assured the dragon slayer, not sure whether to look sympathetic or critical of the man's selfless yet thoroughly irrational actions. "You… definitely saved him." Rin could tell from the way he stared at the homunculus's hand that he had intentionally decided not to mention what else he may have done to the boy.

"Yes, you did," Saber concurred. She stepped forward, her face set in a mask of stern determination. "Which means—"

"Rider," Siegfried interrupted, "relay this to my Master, 'I'm sorry. I was not worthy of being your Servant in the end.'"

Rider nearly gaped but managed to answer even as Arturia seethed with sheer bafflement.

"What are you saying—that's not true at all! It's not!"

"Have you taken complete leave of your senses, Siegfried?!"

"My apologies, Saber of Periwinkle. It seems that I'll not be capable of continuing what we began earlier."

"That's—"

"Ruler…" again Siegfried interrupted, "I am sorry to ask this of you… but I want you to grant that boy his freedom."

"ENOUGH!"

Silence fell upon the clearing as Saber took a deep breath.

"Ruler will do no such thing! You will take responsibility for your own actions, as is only appropriate. You did indeed save this boy, which evidently means it falls to me to save you from your own folly! Are you so eager to throw your life away that you would deliver your last rights propped against a log as insects crawl across your armor?!"

Siegfried's eyes widened, even as motes of blue light began to float of his body.

"Saber of Blue, what are you talking about?" Ruler wondered.

"Wait, Blue?" Rider yapped seeming to be distracted, "I thought it was—"

"Rin, I know it is a poor strategic move, but I beg you to let me—"

"Do it," Rin ordered. "Whatever you're going to do, do it." She looked at Shirou. "No one should have to die to save someone. Especially not while there are other alternatives available."

Saber and Shirou nodded gratefully at Rin.

"Besides, I just… honestly, I can't even bear to watch any more of this idiocy. I mean look at this farce!" she continued. "The man's first instinct after deciding to save this kid was to rip out his own heart—"

"Well, actually, it was his second," Rider interrupted.

"Okay, fine, whatever," Rin grumbled, "The man's _second_ instinct after deciding to save this kid was to rip out his own heart. And you heard that spiel he gave; you'd think the idiot's laboring under the delusion that _he's_ the one being selfish here."

"Uh, actually, that's _exactly_ what he's thinking," Rider said, his tone as disparaging as it could possibly be. Which really wasn't that much. He mostly sounded like he was having a panic attack, if anything. Rin just smacked her forehead.

"Am I surrounded by idiots?!" she snapped.

"Absolutely!" Rider affirmed with a brief smile.

" _Why are you bragging about it?!_ Also, aren't you supposed to be freaking out over your dying teammate? Honestly, in what whacked out universe does a person tear out their heart, transplant it into someone else, and then think of themselves as self-centered?! Catastrophically stupid, sure, but selfish doesn't apply."

Meanwhile, the King of Knights held her hands out in front of her. A shining golden light began to emanate from the center of her body, quickly overwhelming the sapphire particles drifting up from Siegfried's slowly dissipating form. In a brilliant golden flash, she held Excalibur's sheath in her hands.

"That scabbard…" Ruler whispered. "But your legend says— how is this possible…?"

"I once knew an honorable knight who was forced to fall on his own blade due to the hideous machinations of another Holy Grail War," Saber shouted. "I refuse to allow yet another worthy soul to meet such a disgraceful end! So I admonish you, Sir Siegfried, live! There are still many more you can save, if you only give yourself that chance! _Look onward to the Everdistant Utopia!_ _ **Avalon**_ _!"_

Saber pressed the scabbard point down against Siegfried's chest. The moment it came into contact with his body, the divine construct sank into his body as though it were unobstructed.

The results were nigh instantaneous. The bright blue particles that were evaporating off of the knight suddenly changed color, turning gold and racing to return to his body. The entirety of his being, as well as his armor, flashed gold for the briefest of moments.

Siegfried took a sharp, ragged breath, his eyes wide with shock. He clutched at his own chest, seemingly amazed to feel a heart beating beneath his skin. "Impossible…"

Rider stared wide-eyed at the scene, his jaw hanging open just a tad. For a few moments, he didn't move a muscle. And then…

"You're alive!" Rider cheered, jumping to his feet and throwing his arms into the air. Any and all signs that he'd been crying vanished instantaneously.

Saber stepped back to Rin and smiled, a little ruefully, but no less earnest for it, "Avalon's regenerative abilities are quite impressive. Restoring your heart, while time consuming, should be simple enough. Until then, it will at least keep you alive."

"Avalon… which would make you…" Siegfried raised his head and looked upon Saber with new, wondrous awe painted on his face. "King of Knights… thank you. I owe you an unfathomable debt."

"Think nothing of it," Saber deflected gracefully. "You have more than proven yourself a worthy hero. As such, your death should befit one. Moreover, never do something so obscenely foolish ever again! Sacrificing yourself should be a last resort among last resorts. That is my most powerful Noble Phantasm and I do expect you to return it at your earliest convenience, and suffice to say, I'll not save you again if you make this same mistake again."

Saber of Black gave her a simple nod. Not quite enough to reassure her, but for now, she'd leave it at that. Even with Saber's identity having been revealed, Rin couldn't find it in herself to regret her decision. Besides, after seeing what just transpired, she had come to the conclusion that she couldn't predict how Siegfried would behave in any type of situation. He was just as likely to reveal Saber's identity as he was to keep it a secret.

And at that moment…

"NGH!" the homunculus boy gasped as his magic circuits, still blazing, increased in their intensity yet again. His entire body began to glow, startling everyone in the clearing as he winced in discomfort. The light he was giving off grew to such an intensity that they had to shield their eyes. But when it faded…

"What the heck is all this?!" Astolfo stammered

The boy Siegfried had saved was not the same man that now lay beneath the tree. In the time since they last looked at him, it was as though he'd aged seven years in the span of a few minutes. He was taller, his features were more defined, and he was significantly more muscular—though that really only meant that there was an outline of his body beneath his clothes whereas before they'd been hanging off him as though he were a skeleton.

Rin watched as the transformed homunculus slowly opened his eyes.

"He's alive too! His heart is beating!" Rider screamed jubilantly to the heavens. "Thank goodness! You're alive! Saber's alive! Everyone's alive! I'm so happy! Gosh, this all worked out really nicely."

"What the…" the boy groaned, "What… happened?"

"How are you feeling?" Jeanne asked.

After a few moments of hesitation, he spoke, but more to himself than in response to Ruler's question.

"I'm alive… but how?" he murmured.

"You're here… because a kind Servant nearly gave his very life to save yours," she answered quietly. "You've no need to worry about repaying a debt. He would have died, but some… strange circumstances conspired to prevent that. Specifically, another Servant from a different faction saved his life in turn," she looked up at Arturia. "I appreciated your sentiment, Saber of Blue, as there are tasks that I must attend, but though it may require a detour, I am in a far more suitable position to aid this homunculus than your fellow Saber." She returned her gaze to the boy in front of her.

"Servant, Ruler," she introduced herself. "My true name is Jeanne d'Arc. As per that hero's request, I will protect your life—your soul."

The boy stared in awe, and Rin started to question if this homunculus had been worth saving. He didn't seem particularly bright.

" _It's a miracle!_ You're alive!" cried Rider. Rin squinted at the scene, trying to figure out why it was that he only got more enthusiastic the more time passed rather than following the natural order of excitement wearing off. He looked eager to continue his streak of successes. To that end, he grabbed the poor homunculus, engulfed him in a tight bear hug, and proceeded to squeeze the life out of him, snuggling him like a teddy bear.

Ruler and Shirou walked over to the two and knelt down on beside the boy.

"Um, you may want to let him breathe," Shirou suggested.

"Indeed, something like this is unprecedented," Ruler stated. "I want to examine him, Rider, so please move aside."

Rider of Black didn't seem to notice, continuing to cuddle the homunculus with an obliviousness that was both strangely charming, and objectively ridiculous.

"Rider?" she asked.

No response.

"…Rider?"

Ruler narrowed her eyes at the pink haired Servant, likely focusing her True Name Discernment on the boy to find a weakness. She began to mutter. "Symptoms may include hyperactivity, impaired sense of awareness, emotional outbursts, cross-dressing, liking hippogryphs even when they don't like you…"

Eventually, even Ruler lost patience with this and she shoved Rider off the poor homunculus.

"Pardon me," she said, her courteous tone somewhat at odds with the strength she put into shoving the Servant aside.

She placed a hand on the homunculus' chest, a soft glow under her palm. "It seems that Siegfried's heart is functioning properly with its new surroundings. …nothing remotely like this has happened in previous Holy Grail Wars."

"How can that even be possible?" Rin inquired. "A Servant is a being of incredible mystery and mystical power. How could a human body adapt to even a piece of its existence? As a homunculus, I suppose it might not be impossible, but it still seems improbable."

"I don't know the answer to that," Jeanne admitted. "A homunculus is a blank slate, a perfect existence. Perhaps it could be compared to how a blank canvas can be covered by paint… so by that line of thinking, one could argue that this boy's hollowness allowed his body to safely adjust to the task of containing Siegfried's power."

"Did you say Siegfried?" the boy asked. "The hero from the Nibelungenlied? I have— I have his heart?!"

"One of them at any rate," Shirou informed him, rubbing his forehead. "But don't worry, you're both fine. He saved you and our Saber saved him."

The homunculus's gaze darted over to the dragonslayer himself. "You… saved me? Thank you. Thank you so much."

Siegfried smiled softly. "Think nothing of it, little one."

"Exactly!" Rider of Black exclaimed. "All that matters is that you're both alive and okay."

Jeanne frowned. "That's true, however… Rider…" she trailed off as though expecting something of him.

Saber's eyes went wide.

"Rin! Shirou! Behind me!" Saber shouted.

Too late. Two Servants abruptly materialized nearby. The first was a girl in a wedding dress with what looked like a horn jutting out of her head, and the other a tall man encased in golden armor and deep violet robes. The most unusual part of his attire was the faceless golden mask he wore, evidently part of his armor. Moments later, six more figures arrived. Four of them wore the same white and gold jackets as Gordes and had Command Seals on their hands. The Masters of Black.

"Aw man…" Rider whined as he stood up, "They found us."

The other two figures were clearly Servants. One's energy felt like the fresh pine of a forest, and he stood behind a wheelchair-bound girl, his master no doubt. Though the horselike tail sticking out behind him was a mystery.

Still, the final one was the most terrifying, beyond question. He sat upon a clay construct built in the likeness of a warhorse, his deep frown set like a knife. His long blond hair was pale and only added to the regal air about him which only magnified the sensation of menace he gave off. More than anything else, his mere presence commanded respect and fear. But unlike the others, she recognized this one. She'd seen his portrait in history books and encyclopedias her whole life. This was Vlad Tepes III, better known as Vlad the Impaler, son of Dracul. A legend who was not only world-famous but here, he'd also been summoned smack-dab in the middle of his homeland and was backed up by a squad of other Heroic Spirits.

Rin's face paled. They were surrounded. They were surrounded by the _entire Black Faction_ , and Saber no longer had Avalon. She grit her teeth in a ferocious and hopefully misleading sneer, cold sweat beading on her forehead and the back of her neck.

"Rider, what is it that happened here?" asked the Master standing beside the King of Romania, a man with ageless features and long blue hair. His voice was baleful, yet also flat and toneless, the sound of a person who only lived for a singular purpose and could see no value in anything else. "Answer."

"Well, ah… y'see…"

"I've not finished speaking, you have a great deal to explain: Why do Saber and Gordes appear to have been incapacitated? Who are these interlopers standing over you, and what exactly is your excuse for allowing them so deep inside our domain?"

Rin scowled. She couldn't be certain who this man was, but she had a pretty good guess.

Darnic Prestone Yggdmillennia.

So, this was the bastard that had killed off the three families. Maybe he'd get too close and she could hit him with a Finn Shot.

And that was it for her spontaneous bright ideas. Well, at least she had one consolation: She was in the presence of a Saint. So there was always at least one plan:

Pray for a miracle. Because only that was going to save them now.

* * *

 **Well... that's slightly problematic.**

 **Looks like the Blue Faction have done some good and as a consequence put themselves in a mess of trouble. Ruler can't order the Black Faction not to attack them after all. And without Avalon, they are just a bit outgunned.**

 **A huge thank you to my patrons: ArcherMcMuffin, Gregg Tracton, Keith Traction and my newest supporter, Cool guy.**

 **Thank you for Reading! I hope you enjoy what comes next!**

 **Go Forth and Conquer!**


	7. Emergency Author's Note

Hello Everyone,

This is not a chapter, and I apologize for that, but something has come up in the Real World that requires immediate attention.

My good friend and fellow author on this site, **Shirou Fujimura** , is in trouble. his mother has an ovarian cyst and needs surgery to get it removed. The operation costs $6,000 and he and his family do not have the money or healthcare to pay for it.

He has set up a GoFundMe page for her to pay for the surgery.

I know we all come to fanfiction for fun, for a break from real life and all its crap, but this is the life of a real innocent woman we are talking about. If everyone donated just five dollars, half the funds would be raised. Even just sharing the page would be an immense help.

This is the link: **www.** gofundme **.** co m **/ single-mom-has-to-have-surgery-asap**

It is also on my profile, where it can be copy and pasted.

We can all make a difference.

Thank you,

Sincerely,

TheMaster4444


	8. Chapter 7

**Thank you so much to everyone who donated or spread the word about Shirou Fujimura's mother's need. Together, we helped raise over half the necessary funds and eased the burden on their family just a little. If anyone had trouble getting to the GoFundMe from the link in the Author's Note, there is a copy and pastable link on my profile, just take out the spaces.**

 **Now, on with the story!** **The chapter of September!**

 **P a treon: p a Treon.(c om) (backslash) themaster4444**

 **Beta-ed by Draconic**

* * *

…

…

…

Okay, no miracle.

' _Well, I guess it's up to me.'_

Fortunately, Rider of Black seemed to be taking a lot more time than should have been necessary to recount the string of recent events, so that at least gave her time to think.

There were four enemy Servants surrounding them, six if Siegfried and Rider were ordered—or willing—to attack them. She had to assume that Assassin was still hidden in spirit form and waiting for an opportunity to strike, so that meant that the remaining Servants were Archer, Caster, and Berserker since Vlad himself was Lancer. The forest-scented Servant standing behind the girl in the wheelchair seemed to be the one with the most defined physique of the three, and he certainly had the 'Stoic Archer Look' down. That said, where her Archer's gaze was cool and even condescending, this man appeared completely serene. The one in the purple robes and golden armor definitely had the most unreadable stature… and the tackiest outfit, which made her lean towards pegging them as a Caster, if experience meant anything. Which, by process of elimination, meant the science experiment in the wedding dress had to be a Berserker. Wouldn't have been her first guess, but what could you do?

Alright, assuming they got amazingly lucky and Saber and Rider weren't coerced into attacking them, they could work with this… maybe.

On the other hand, she really couldn't predict Rider's behavior. At all.

Most Berserkers weren't the absolute monsters that Heracles had been, and Archers by their nature weren't meant for close combat, so with any luck, Saber could hold them both off while Rin somehow repeated her miraculous defeat of Medea against this Caster. Meanwhile, Shirou could hold off the… four Masters…

The Yggdmillenia weren't exactly known for being a clan of first rate mages. Sure, Darnic may have been over a century old and you didn't get to be that old and that ruthless without picking up a few tricks, but Shirou had Noble Phantasms! Fake Noble Phantasms, sure, but they were still identical to their originals and certainly did everything they were supposed to.

…and he wouldn't get a chance to use any of them if Lancer could impale him before he could finish saying 'Trace on'… And Lancer of Black _wouldn't_ be able to do that; he would impale _all three of them_ before Shirou even opened his mouth. At least, that's what would happen if they didn't play their cards perfectly here.

In the end, that was the biggest problem with her ideal scenario. Lancer was simply too powerful.

It also said a lot that her ideal scenario mostly relied on them getting extremely lucky.

If they still had Avalon, then Saber could have just steamrolled through everyone with the exception of Siegfried without fear of damage, but without it, they were just outgunned. Vlad the Impaler was an immensely strong Heroic Spirit without boosted abilities, but with the extra power he gained from being in his homeland, he might have been closing on Karna and Goldy.

Wait…

Gilgamesh…

Homeland…

Vlad was more powerful as long as he was on Romanian soil, but if they could just remove that…

No. That would require… but if it didn't…

At the very least, they'd still need a distraction… like…

Rin's eyes darted towards Saber's invisible sword. She smirked.

' _I know that look,'_ Shirou said over their gem link. _'What're you plotting, Tohsaka?'_

' _Do you need to say your full chant to summon your Reality Marble?'_ Rin inquired.

' _Yes. Archer might have been able to manifest it without the whole aria, but I don't have that ability,'_ Shirou put a hand to his chin. _'I used the full chant against Gilgamesh and I still didn't have enough prana to finish the fight. I don't think I can maintain it for long in an entire battle, especially not against so many. At any rate, without the full incantation, it's unlikely to work. Not at my level.'_

' _That's a problem. We really need to get them inside of it,'_ Rin said. _'If we can do that, I'd be able to handle the rest.'_

' _He will need to gather the prana for the spell,'_ Saber pointed out. _'With so many mages here, they are sure to notice, even if they fail to hear him. Lancer will execute him immediately.'_

' _Not if they're all focusing on something else,'_ Rin said. _'We'll need a distraction. You and I are going to have to provide that.'_

Saber raised an eyebrow in bemusement, but as she followed Rin's gaze to her sword, she quickly worked out what her Master was thinking. That would garner a lot of attention. A shame that her identity would be revealed so early, but they didn't really have any options let. _'Very well. Creating a diversion should be child's play.'_

' _Excellent. Shirou, go for it when I give you the signal and not a moment before. If they catch on to what you're doing, we're dead.'_

' _Got it.'_

Rin took a deep breath. If they managed to pull this off, Zelretch had better give her extra credit. The trick now was to ensure that no one heard him. So how could she go about doing that?

"…and that's when you showed up with everyone and said 'Rider, what is it that happened here?' in that scary way of yours," Rider of Black finished, making his voice deep and gravelly in a poor, but vaguely amusing attempt to mimic Darnic.

To absolutely no one's surprise, the glare Darnic shot at the pink-haired Servant was so baleful that not only did it look like he was trying to bore a hole through him, but for a moment, Rin almost thought she could see smoke coming from Rider's chest.

The woman with messy silver hair and glasses right next to him looked even less pleased. "Rider, if this is another one of your ridiculous tall tales, I swear—"

Something about that woman was just creepy. She seemed elegant and poised at a glance, but her presence alone was giving off some sort of inherent _wrongness_. A tense sensation, as though something intangible but absolutely necessary could break at any moment, and everything would be that much worse for it.

"It is nothing of the sort," Siegfried spoke up. He seemed to be leaning on his massive sword to keep himself standing. Avalon's work was obviously incomplete. "I assure you, Lady Celenike, everything Rider just reported is true."

Celenike? _This_ was the batshit insane woman Zelretch had warned them about?

The woman just snarled at Siegfried's assurance, her mouth set in a twisted scowl. So judging from her reaction, it would be bad if he had lied, but she was even angrier that he hadn't. Yes, Rin decided, she could easily see this woman wearing a dominatrix's corset. She shook her head to remove that image. This was not the time to be unearthing unexpected bisexual tendencies, least of all towards this probable lunatic. After all, if even _Zelretch_ of all people found her to be too crazy…

"Whoa… you're actually serious…aren't you?" a male Master of Black gasped. He was handsome, and certainly looked smart in his unassuming but stylish glasses, but Rin could tell that he wasn't particularly talented as a mage just from a glance. Nevertheless, he was standing protectively in front of Archer's wheelchair bound Master. He didn't look much older than Rin and Shirou had been during their war. "I guess we really dodged a bullet. If these guys hadn't been here—"

"We would have lost our Saber," Darnic snarled. He glared at Gordes' unconscious form. "And over something so trivial…"

"Darnic," the suspected Caster of Black spoke up. "If that homunculus truly does possess Saber's heart, he would serve quite well as a reactor core."

The blue haired mage's eyes turned back towards the homunculus boy, the glint in his gaze not the ambivalence of inconvenience but the avarice of desire. "Rider, hand him over."

"No way!" Rider shouted defiantly, his frivolous gaze suddenly showing unyielding determination in the face of his superior. Rin would have never expected such resolve from the previously eccentric hero. He really was a noble Servant after all.

Darnic narrowed his eyes. "Very well, you'll be appropriately dealt with later. Saber, retrieve him from these interlopers in Rider's place."

Saber of Black bowed his head. "I apologize, my lord, but I cannot allow that."

Darnic's eyes narrowed. "Do not make me waste Command Spells on this."

Celenike raised her right hand, as if to reinforce the threat.

Rin smirked. She had no idea how Darnic intended to use the unconscious Gordes as a threat against Siegfried, but Celenike raising her hand likely meant she held Rider's Command Seals. Ugh, to have such a peppy person stuck with a woman even Zelretch considered unstable, maybe she should cut the pink-haired kid some slack.

Nevertheless, even with the price they would have to pay just to get out alive, this encounter was not without profit. Already she knew three of the Master-Servant pair ups, assuming her assumption about the Archer was correct.

Shirou glared at Darnic, his hands closing into fists. "Do you honestly think we're just going to let you drag him away to use as some power source against his will?"

"From where I stand, you don't appear to be in any position to suggest that we need your permission to do anything, boy," Lancer of Black remarked evenly. "You have trespassed on the king's land."

' _Shirou! Cut it out! No heroics! We need them to overlook you!'_

"That is quite enough!"

With that brief command, Ruler silenced the entire party. She looked upon the Black Faction with immovable certainty. "Forcefully involving this boy in the Great Holy Grail War will not be allowed."

" _What?!_ "

In that single word, Rin found a sudden appreciation for how frightening this Caster could be. The sound of his tone was actually funny: He managed to sound utterly dumbfounded while remaining completely disaffected. But no sane person could sound so dead. This man was a lunatic hiding behind a thin veil of serenity and a faceless mask.

"Even Holy Grail Wars have rules," Ruler continued. "And one of the most important among those is that those involved must not involve outsiders. And this boy did not choose to participate."

"But he is not unrelated," Caster argued. "After all, he has inherited Saber's heart."

"Regardless, possessing it does not make this boy a Servant," Jeanne fired back. "Putting aside the fact that this chivalrous knight still lives, no faction has the right to forcefully involve innocents, no matter how potent their magecraft might be. Caster, I'm sure you knew that."

"Yes, that is correct," the man replied, unfazed even after being called out on his false claim. " _But he is still a homunculus_ , and _that_ is all that matters to me."

"This homunculus was an asset we created for the Great Holy Grail War," Darnic interjected. "No personality, or past; he was created solely to fight for us."

The homunculus boy cringed, looking at the ground, shame etched across his face.

Shirou scowled at Darnic.

"That doesn't—!"

' _What did I just say, Shirou?!'_

' _We can't just do nothing!'_

' _We're not. We're letting Ruler handle it. She has a better chance at saving him than we do anyway.'_

"I accept that may be the case," Ruler continued. "However, he wished to live and thus took action. And indeed, there were others who wished for him to live," she turned to Siegfried. "Saber of Black, you were willing to give your life for this boy. Was that sacrifice not to give him the opportunity to live?"

Siegfried nodded. "It was." He turned to Vlad and Darnic. "My lords, please permit this boy a chance to live as he sees fit."

Darnic glared at his Saber, but he did not get the chance to speak.

"Really, Saber," Vlad sighed. His voice dripped with frustration, but it was more a parent's irritation with a willful child than someone truly furious. "You are a truly valiant hero. Perhaps to the extent of foolishness. Do you truly wish to give that mere homunculus a chance at life?"

"I hold to that as I hold to my honor as a Heroic Spirit, my lord."

"It is the wish of a Heroic Spirit, and more importantly, the will of a human being," Jeanne stepped forward. She twirled her flag and pointed the spear tip at the Servants of Black. "Upon this flag, I swear—"

Lancer hid it well, but his eyes widened a touch as he heard her rebuke. "Could you be… the Maid of Orléans?"

Jeanne, the girl Rin had tutored in math just days ago, stared him straight in the eye, her gaze unwavering against a man so terrifying that he'd inspired one of the most vicious monsters in fiction. Even with all the wonders and horrors she'd witnessed in her life, Rin couldn't help but feel a growing admiration for the Saint.

"On my True Name, I will never turn him over to you."

That was as much a confirmation as anything. Surprising, but on the other hand, Ruler had a significant advantage over other Servants.

Rin noticed the boy in the glasses whispering something to the Archer, but couldn't make out what was said. That gave her an idea.

While the Yggdmillennia's attention was elsewhere, Rin drew a small glyph in the air behind her and spoke a brief incantation.

" _Verstumme!  
Möge nicht Stimme, nicht ein hauch deine lippen verlassen, die klingen deiner stimme soll nie wieder erschallen!"_

' _That should do the trick,'_ she whispered mentally. _'You should be able to shout and no one would hear you.'_

Shirou tested this and seemed not to realize that he wasn't making any sound whatsoever.

' _You're completely silent, Shirou,'_ Rin assured him, _'I can't hear you anymore. It's working, so don't worry. Just focus on doing what we need you to do when we give you your opening.'_

Shirou nodded.

Vlad smiled ever so slightly at Ruler's resolve before shifting his gaze to Rider. "Rider, Saber's actions could be viewed as acting on a desire to keep one of our assets alive. His choices were undeniably foolish, and far undervaluing of his own person, but he remains loyal all the same. _Your_ behavior on the other hand can only be described as deliberate actions taken for the purpose of undermining the Black Faction. Do you consider what you have done here tonight to be a blatant act of betrayal?"

"Not at all!" Rider shot back, a wide grin on his face. "Because I truly believe that helping that boy was the right thing to do!"

Celenike looked moments away from losing her composure, but her cool glare held.

Vlad scoffed. "Needless to say, I cannot simply let you go without punishment. The same goes for you, Saber."

Siegfried bowed his head. "That is only natural. But my lord, the boy?"

"He will have his freedom."

" _What?_ " Darnic exclaimed.

Vlad shrugged. "We will find another reactor core. It is of little consequence. Saber, please take your Master back to the castle. It would be unwise to allow him to linger so close to our enemies in such a state."

Siegfried nodded, but first glanced back to Saber. "Saber of Blue, you may retrieve your Noble Phantasm now."

Saber sighed. "No, I cannot. Your heart is likely still being regenerated. To remove it now would kill you within seconds, rendering a full half of this squabble utterly pointless," the King of Britain looked up at the King of Romania, her gaze cold, "A ruthless tactic, Lancer of Black."

Vlad smirked. "I'm sure I have no idea what you mean, Saber of… wait. Our Saber referred to you as 'Blue' just now, but earlier reports stated your faction color to be—"

"It was a case of miscommunication!" Rin loudly interjected. "We are the Blue Faction! Not… that other thing. Ask Ruler if you need confirmation."

Ruler raised an eyebrow at the display. "Um, yes, that is true. They are now the Blue Faction."

"Now?" Lancer noted. "So they were _formerly_ the Periwinkle Faction?"

Rin's shoulders slumped. "Yes. We were. But not anymore." At the very least, Lancer was managing to make it sound more dignified than even Siegfried could.

The boy with glasses looked to the wheelchair bound girl. "Changing your faction color? Is that allowed?"

"I don't know," the girl replied. "I don't think there are any rules against it."

"Most would not think to," Archer explained. "After all, the designation affects nothing in the actual war."

Celenike chuckled. "How juvenile. The little girl wouldn't tolerate not having her favorite color."

That patronizing piece of… Okay… she just moved up on the blacklist.

Outwardly, Rin cringed. Inwardly, she smirked. The more they were focused on her, even for such an embarrassing reason, the more they _weren't_ focusing on Shirou. The more she played up her reactions, the better.

"It doesn't matter what their name is," Darnic snarled impatiently. "Saber, return Gordes to Millenia Citadel now, and remain there!"

Siegfried's gaze divided itself between Gordes and Saber, obviously torn on not returning the King of Knights' Noble Phantasm. Both he and Rider had been quite generous in not exposing Arturia's identity during their explanation. For whatever stupidity it might invoke in him, Siegfried was honorable to the extreme.

Saber smiled softly at him. "Do not worry, Saber of Black. Your Master's safety is paramount above all else. Do not let your debt to me impede your oath."

Siegfried paused a moment but nodded afterward. "As you say, Saber of Blue."

He walked over to Gordes and slung his Master over his shoulder. "If you do not survive this, I shall carry your regards to Lancer of Red."

A smirk graced Arturia's lips. "I thank you for your concern. But you know who I am. You should be more worried about your allies."

Siegfried nodded and leapt away into the forest. Several of the Black Masters and Servants tilted their heads at Saber or showed similar signs of confusion, obviously concerned about the dragon slayer knight not refuting her assertion.

Rin grinned. It looked like Saber was doing her part in taking attention off Shirou as well.

Still, it was a clever move by Vlad. While Siegfried would likely have fought them if pressed, he was a knight after all and no matter how indebted he may have felt to them he wouldn't refuse such a direct order, he likely would have insisted on returning Avalon before he engaged them, even if it meant his own demise. This way, the dragon slayer knight would be taken off the board entirely, and the Noble Phantasm that could regenerate a lost heart with him.

The King of Romania turned back to Ruler. "Ruler, as a fellow believer of God, will you not join forces with us?"

"No," Jeanne refused. "I must remain impartial. As long as each side fights for the Holy Grail with honor, I will not interfere with anything."

"A shame. You are a credit to the Throne, Jeanne d'Arc," said Vlad. "However, am I to take it that you will not intervene in our interactions with the Blue Faction? Gordes reported that you refused his invitation to travel here with him, yet Rider claims you arrived in their company."

Jeanne exchanged a regretful look with the three of them, but Shirou and Saber each shot her a reassuring smile. The Maid of Orléans sighed.

"I was traveling with them for investigative purposes only," the Ruler explained. "I am no more allied with them than with either of the other factions."

"Investigative purposes? To discover how they appeared in this Great Holy Grail War no doubt." Lancer turned to them and glared. "Something I admit to being curious about myself."

Once more, the gazes of every Servant and Master present fell on them, some focused, some wary, others simply curious.

Rin cringed. "Would you believe it was a homework assignment?"

A stake longer than she was tall shot out of the ground right in front of her. She leapt back in shock as Saber moved to cover her, however it was clear that the attack had only been intended as a warning. If he had wanted to kill her, Rin had no doubt she would have been dead before she even realized she'd been impaled.

"I'll just take that as a 'no,'" Rin remarked. Funny thing that it kind of was. Hell, it wasn't even the wackiest thing Zelretch had assigned her.

Darnic glared at them. "My lord, I would advise that you execute these interlopers immediately. We have enough to deal with already."

"Let's not be hasty, Darnic," Lancer overruled. "They did just save Saber's life, at a rather significant loss to themselves. And he spoke well of their conduct when Lancer of Red ambushed Ruler. They would make valuable allies in this War. What say you, Master of Blue? Will you join forces with us against the Servants of Red?"

Yeah, no. Putting aside the fact that such an arrangement would give the Yggdmillennia every opportunity to use them as cannon fodder, Rin did have certain standards for her allies. While she actually couldn't say she'd mind working with Lancer of Black and even Caster of Black's desire to use the homunculus as a power source could be forgiven from a mage's point of view, she didn't want to touch Celenike with a ten-foot pole until she knew _exactly_ what they were dealing with. Plus, her personal issues with Darnic… Wait…

 _Hello_ distraction!

"An interesting proposal, Your Majesty," Rin replied to Vlad. "But perhaps you should know who you are dealing with first. Saber!"

The King of Knights smiled, stepping forward on cue and raising her sword above her head. Invisible Air dissipated in a rush of wind, filling the air with ambient prana and causing all but Lancer, Archer, and the wheelchair bound girl Archer held to stagger. When all of them recovered, their collective gaze locked on the golden blade above Saber's head.

" _Erggh!_ " Berserker of Black grunted.

"Wait, what is that?!" the boy with glasses exclaimed.

"So pretty…" Rider drooled, his hands reaching out for the glowing sword.

Shirou took his opportunity and began chanting.

" _I am the bone of my sword."_

She didn't hear the words so much as she felt them, recognizing the sensation that permeated the air whenever he began invoking the reality marble.

Vlad stared at the blade in shock. He looked back and forth between Saber and her weapon. "Archer, do my eyes deceive me? Is that really—"

"It can be no other," Archer confirmed. His awe didn't last as long as the others though. His eyes narrowed in contemplation.

" _Steel is my body and fire is my blood."_

His Master seemed more impressed. "The Sword of Promised Victory…" she mused, her eyes wide with reverence.

"Excalibur…!" Darnic finished, a tinge of fear on his lips.

Saber lowered herself into a ready stance. "An impressive blade, but nothing more. It promises victory. It does not grant it. Between my sword and my own person, I am the one you should be most concerned about."

" _I have created over a thousand blades."_

Vlad smiled upon Saber, a joyous grin though still somewhat frightening. "King of Knights, it is an honor to meet a hero of your caliber. I believe an alliance between our two factions would be to both our benefits."

"I thank you for your praise, King of Romania," Saber replied politely. "However, it is not my decision whether to join you."

" _Unaware of loss, nor aware of gain."_

Archer's eyes narrowed. He looked at Saber with suspicion for a bit, but then his eyes seemed to wander, getting far too close to Shirou.

No, no, no! If they caught on, they were all dead. She just needed to keep their attention for a bit longer!

Time to look like a crazy person and hope Zelretch never let Luvia find out. Oh, to hell with it, she was probably watching right now, but she would rather be humiliated than let Shirou die. Not to mention… how would she be able to look Sakura in the eye ever again?

"Indeed!" Rin agreed, stepping forward boldly to cut off Archer's view of Shirou. "While Saber here is as fine a Servant as they come, you should really be far more concerned about me!"

The Black Masters' reactions ranged from confused curiosity to irritated exasperation. Darnic in particular seemed to champion the latter.

"What are you playing at, girl?" the leader of Yggdmillenia growled.

" _Withstood pain to create weapons, waiting for one's arrival."_

Archer's eyes widened. "My lord—!"

"I mean that I haven't introduced myself, _Darnic Prestone Yggdmillennia_ ," she stared him right in the eye and let her smirk fall away to be replaced by a look of disgust. "For what I've heard, you're _intimately_ familiar with my family."

Darnic narrowed his eyes.

"What are you getting at, girl? Say what you mean rather than wasting our time."

"Okay, have it your way. My name is Rin… Rin _Tohsaka!_ "

Every member of the Black Faction's eyebrows shot up like rabbits, even Lancer and Darnic. Especially Darnic.

" _What?_ " the man who stole the Holy Grail spoke very softly and very slowly, his gaze cold and venomous, like a viper that had come across a mouse that had dared to bite back.

"Well. It looks like you _missed one_ ," Rin leered up at him. When in doubt, lie.

"Tohsaka?" the boy with the glasses gasped. "But—but they're dead! Right, Archer?"

" _I have no regrets. This is the only path."_

"They are," Archer concurred, "But if she was really… then why would she— _The boy!_ "

 _Shit!_

Archer's bow was immediately in his hands, an arrow fully drawn.

"Archer!" Lancer shouted.

" _My whole life was…"_

Rin absently noted that Shirou's voice was suddenly audible again, indicating that her spell had worn off. But it didn't matter anymore.

" _ **Unlimited Blade Works**_ _!"_

"Too late!" Rin smirked.

Even as Archer of Black fired, the whole world went white.

* * *

 _ **FATEFATEFATEFATEFATEFATE**_

Fiore blinked rapidly as the glare faded. When she could see properly again, her jaw dropped.

She'd tried to keep her mind open when Grandfather Darnic had told her she'd be entering the Great Holy Grail War for their family. She'd been sad to leave her friends at the Clock Tower and a little nervous about having to fight, but she'd known there was no point in trying to say no to Darnic. A mage who'd managed to live as long as he had was not to be trifled with. Still, she hadn't been sure what to think about the absurd tales that were told of the past wars. Even with magecraft, some things were just impossible.

Then she'd summoned Archer. Obtaining the catalyst had been difficult, but it had all been worth it when she'd met Chiron. Her Servant was simply wonderful. He was so kind, and gentle, and wise. He truly felt like a figure of myth that had stepped out of legend. Just the fact that he existed, that he'd spoken with her, that they'd drank tea together, it proved that the wonders of ancient times could still exist through these Servants. Anything was possible with them in this world.

Even… she dared to dream… for her to walk. To walk without giving up her path as a mage.

But even with the knowledge that such miracles were possible, she hadn't been able to understand why Archer had been so uneasy when Saber of Blue had revealed her sword. True, it was a wonder to behold the legendary sword of King Arthur (though she was a bit confused why she was a woman), but Lancer was practically unstoppable within Romania. His stakes could strike almost anyone before they had time to react. No matter how powerful Excalibur was, it couldn't hurt them if it never went off.

She'd been shocked when Archer's attention had turned to the redheaded boy next to the Master of Blue, the girl who claimed to be a Tohsaka. There didn't seem to be anything particularly remarkable about the boy. He was kind of handsome, and he had the same Black Command Seals that Rider had mentioned having appeared on the homunculus they were chasing, but he wasn't something to worry about. Uncle Gordes had reported that the boy had bested him, but as much as Fiore loved and respected her Uncle he was far from the most… agile combatant.

So when Archer had drawn his bow on the boy, she'd been more worried that negotiations would break down. The thought that she was about to be thrust into the most impossible situation hadn't even crossed her mind. And what greeted her was indeed an impossible sight.

They were no longer in the Trifas forests. There wasn't a tree in sight. It wasn't even night time anymore. The sky was covered by billowing clouds of soot, smatterings of light sneaking in through the few cracks.

And on the ground… swords. Thousands upon thousands of blades, stretching as far as the eye could see in all directions. Each had a different make and style, a different power resonating through the air. They went on past the furthest horizon, an endless arsenal beyond anything that Fiore could have ever imagined.

All around her, the other members of the Black Faction, even Lancer and Grandfather, gazed around their new surroundings, awe plastered across their faces.

"What is this?" Celenike hissed, fear evident in her normally domineering voice.

"Is… is it some kind of illusion?" Caules stammered.

Fiore sighed. She loved her brother, she really did, but he really wasn't that skilled as a mage. Part of her was glad because it meant she wouldn't have to kill him if they both made it to the individual stage of the war, but it could be rather vexing at times like these. Though given that the spell they'd been entrapped in should have been impossible, she supposed his disbelief was understandable.

"It's a Reality Marble," the elder Forvedge sibling corrected. She looked up to her Servant. "You sensed it. Didn't you, Archer?"

Chiron nodded, even as he marveled at the boundless armory before them. "The boy was gathering a rather large amount of _prana_. Saber of Blue's release of her sword's cloaking filled the air with ambient magical energy, masking the process. I assumed he was building up for a powerful spell, but I never imagined he would be capable of something like this. Hephaestus himself would be humbled by this place."

"It is really pretty, isn't it?" Rider grinned, his eyes darting to each sword with ever-growing glee. "I wonder if we can touch them."

"Don't bother, Rider," Caster drawled sardonically. His mask hid his facial expression, but his gauntleted hands curled into fists. It was the most emotion Fiore had ever seen from the nigh heartless Servant, even when Roche was fervently praising him. "This place… it is a mockery of God's creation, his painstaking labor that constructed Eden. To have the power to create an entirely new world, and to make something so _lifeless_."

"Lifeless? Oh, so you're saying it's just like you, huh?" Astolfo answered cheekily.

Fiore cocked an eyebrow at the golem maker. Reality Marbles were an ancient magic among ancient magics. They hadn't been seen since the Age of Gods. To create one was to take a step closer to The Root than anyone had gotten in centuries and would surely earn someone a sealing designation from the Clock Tower. Who was this boy that Uncle Gordes said could only use Gradation Air, that he could perform such a feat?

"Hey, eyes up here!"

The Black Faction's eyes all turned to a small hill at the… center of the world? There didn't seem to be any borders so orienting themselves in the new setting was difficult, to say the least. But there was a small hill nearby in the plain of swords, a larger concentration of swords seeming to riddle the softly rising slope. Ruler and the homunculus boy stood at the side of the hill's base, their eyes as wide as everyone else's.

And at the top stood the Blue Faction. The King of Knights and the redheaded boy flanked Rin Tohsaka, who grinned at the Yggdmillennia like a cat. "We still need to finish our negotiations."

Darnic growled. "What is this place, girl?"

"I think your Archer's Master already said it," Tohsaka declared, flashing Fiore a respectful nod. Fiore recoiled slightly from it. Whether this woman really was some long-lost survivor of the family that Grandfather wiped out in the Third Holy Grail War or not, she was definitely dangerous.

"That is impossible," Darnic insisted. "No modern mage could possibly manifest a Reality Marble; the Mage's Association would seal them immediately."

"You mean the Association you just royally pissed off," Tohsaka purred, as if she was relishing playing with her food. She turned to the redhead. "Shirou, a demonstration if you would?"

The newly named Shirou nodded.

"Lancer of Black," he spoke up, "If you wouldn't mind providing me with some stakes."

Vlad raised an eyebrow but promptly caused a trail of stakes to erupt from the ground. They weren't as nearly as fast as they had been when she last saw him use them.

Instantly, a series of sapphire motes sparked above the Blue Faction, condensing and coalescing into two dozen swords of various makes and sizes. The only thing they all had in common was that they radiated power. Power Fiore recognized after weeks of spending time with Servants. But those blades were just conjured out of thin air, they couldn't possibly be—!

The moment the next stake shot upward from the blasted earth, a sword flew at it, exploding upon impact only to be replaced by more blades, lingering above Shirou's head once again.

"Hey, that's Durandal!" Rider cheered, pointing eagerly at one of the swords. "Where'd you get that? Is Roland hiding somewhere around here? Rooolaaand! Helllooo! It's me! Ast—er… well, you can recognize me by my voice, right?! Where are ya?!"

Fiore cringed. Well, that was confirmation that the swords really were Noble Phantasms at least. Rider wouldn't have recognized the signature sword of his fellow Paladin otherwise. And if their power was real…

Oh, this was bad.

"Archer, what are our chances here?"

"As poor as you imagine them to be, Master. Though not likely for the reasons you believe," Chiron informed her. "While I do believe that each of those swords do contain the power of a Noble Phantasm, their full power will only be unleashed if they are wielded properly and their True Names declared. While they are dangerous as a barrage, we should be able to dodge them without too much difficulty. While Berserker and Caster might be in some measure of danger, Lancer, Rider, and I would be able to overwhelm the boy." the Trainer of Heroes narrowed his eyes. "The real problem is the King of Knights."

Fiore gulped, her eyes laser focusing on the stunning blond woman in silver armor. She might have deferred to Tohsaka, but there was no doubting the iron grace and authority that radiated off of her, no more than one could deny the more frightening version that rolled off of Lancer. And occupying her grip, lax but still at the ready, was the legendary sword given to her by the Lady of the Lake.

' _Excalibur.'_ Since she knew Saber of Blue's identity, Fiore could see her Noble Phantasm's statistics. They were… quite terrifying.

Archer nodded. "Indeed. It is a weapon that would have been feared even in my time. If she activates it here, she can annihilate us all in a single shot. Perhaps Siegfried's Balmung could have stalemated it, but…"

"He isn't here," Fiore finished. Grandfather's plan to get the King of Knights' healing Noble Phantasm away from her had unintentionally left them all vulnerable. "Can we do anything to stop her?"

"If we were still in Romania, Lancer could easily strike her as she charged her attack. But as long as we are in this world, he will not receive the bonuses from either his fame boost or his Demonic Defender of the State," Chiron explained. "Even so, I could shoot her as she did the same, pin her down while the others closed in. Except…"

Fiore glanced at the floating array of swords, hanging over the Black Faction like the famous blade of Damocles. "They have more than enough ranged defenses."

"I'm afraid so, Master. We've been outmaneuvered. They can wipe us out at their leisure."

Fiore frowned. "So why don't they?"

"Because this mage, whether she is a Tohsaka or not, is clearly no fool. She could destroy us right now, but then that would leave the Red Faction with no united opposition. Even she came to an accord with Lord Gordes and Saber, even if she tracked down Assassin, her group would still be massively outgunned by the remaining Red Servants. She has already seen that their Lancer can stalemate the King of Knights at her full power. Though it is unlikely, imagine how she would face them if the other five, or as she believes six, Servants of Red were his equals in strength?"

"They'd die," Fiore realized. Even with the King of Knights, even with this Shirou's Reality Marble of endless swords, the Blue Faction could not defeat the Mage's Association's team, even if none of their remaining Servants were comparable to Karna. It was unlikely that all the Masters of Red had called Servants as mighty as the Hero of Charity, but as demonstrated by Chiron's own disciple Achilles' presence, it was not impossible. If they killed off most of the Black Faction now, at best, they'd have Siegfried by their side to face the enemy. But knowing Uncle Gordes' pride (and the fact that he did actually care about her and Caules—he let them call him 'uncle' after all), he would put everything he had into taking down the ones who defeated Yggdmillennia, so they wouldn't even have that.

Whether they liked it or not, the Blue Faction needed Yggdmillennia alive to throw against the Mage's Association. They needed both sides to whittle each other down so they could swoop in and wipe out the weakened survivors, or they'd just paint targets on their backs.

It was still a staggering amount of leverage, but as long as negotiations went well, they would all leave this encounter unharmed.

Lancer seemed to have figured out the same thing. While Darnic was seething with impotent rage, the Son of Dracul stared at the Blue Faction with a steely gaze, riotous irritation, and grudging respect. "What are your terms, Miss Tohsaka? I promise you, you will not be taking the life of my Master if that is what you're after."

Tohsaka smiled. "I would never ask a Heroic Spirit to stain their honor in such a way. Trust me, I've seen it done. The results aren't pretty. Rest assured, your Master is going to get what's coming to him, but so long as you comply with my offer, it won't be today."

Darnic's glare was positively toxic. "Then as Lancer said, _imposter_ , state your terms."

"No need to be so touchy, Darnic," Tohsaka mocked. Fiore cringed at her words. Either out of respect or fear, no one talked to Grandfather that way. Between the King of Knights, a mage who could conjure a Reality Marble, and this scheming young woman, she was honestly considering that this third faction was from some crazy alternate dimension

"My terms are simple," Tohsaka declared. "You allow us to leave this place unharmed and promise not to come after us for three days. And in exchange we'll do the same for you. We'll also be needing Saber's scabbard back."

"I'm afraid that is impossible," Vlad replied calmly. "Forgive me, but I have little knowledge regarding this Noble Phantasm, or how it functions. I have no way of knowing if our Saber's heart has been completely restored, or if removing the artifact will reverse what healing has been done. I will not risk Siegfried's life by returning the item to you."

"The item is Avalon, as I'm sure you know," Saber of Blue said, her tone making it quite clear that she knew an explanation wasn't necessary. "My sheath possesses regenerative and protective capabilities beyond any magic in this world. At the very most, it will take a few more minutes to permanently restore Siegfried's heart."

"I have no objections to the first half of your proposed accords. If it is all you demand, then you have my word as the King of Romania that you shall not be harmed," Lancer assured them. "But I cannot promise to relinquish a Noble Phantasm in good conscience, when it keeps my comrade alive even as we speak. Moreover, you freely granted us possession of a tool that can heal fatal wounds. I would be betraying my comrades if I allowed you to simply retrieve it.

Tohsaka's eyes narrowed. Fiore understood her frustration. While Vlad did have a great deal of consideration for every member of the Black Faction, it was clear he was using it as an excuse in this case. He knew that if Saber of Blue reclaimed her sheathe, she would become exponentially more difficult to defeat.

Excalibur lit up with a golden glow.

"You do know that Excalibur doesn't have to be used at its full power. We could narrow the blast, just take out some of you," Rin threatened. "Maybe we take you out and negotiate with the next person in the chain of command."

"If you don't aim for all of us, those you spare will tear you apart before you even have a chance to defend yourselves. If I fall, my comrades will avenge me," Vlad countered.

Archer, Berserker, and Rider all nodded in agreement at that declaration, but the King of Knights remained unmoved.

"There is no longer a question of 'if,' King of Romania. Here in Shirou's world, every advantage you gained from being summoned within your own domain has been stripped away. You have no hope of surviving should I use my Noble Phantasm."

"We are warriors, King of Knights. We both know that there is _always_ an 'if'," Vlad's gaze narrowed. "And if you do manage to murder any of my captains, pray that heaven will have mercy on you, for _I will not_."

It was a stare down. The girl from the dead family, and the Lord Impaler. Both of them were terrifying in their own way. Both were warriors, through and through. Both had wills of iron tested by the bleakest of odds.

But only one had slaughtered thousands. Only one had planted living men on spikes and left their still bloody corpses as a warning, even blunting stakes so that they would scream for three days and nights, begging passersby to kill them before they finally died. Only one had burned the world to make his enemies fear treading on the ashes.

There was no doubt in Fiore's mind that Rin Tohsaka was a force to be reckoned with. But there was a reason Vlad Tepes III had inspired a monster. It would only take one crack in her armor, and she would falter.

A single bead of sweat rolled down Shirou's forehead.

"Tohsaka," he hissed urgently, far more strain in his voice than Fiore would have expected from his stoic outward appearance.

She supposed it made sense. No matter how incredible it was that he could summon a Reality Marble, he was still maintaining an entire world. That must have required an absolutely enormous amount of prana, especially since he'd conjured the realm without uttering a word. The longer the negotiations went on, the closer the pocket dimension came to collapsing from lack of energy.

Lancer wasn't a mage, so he might not understand that was happening, but surely Grandfather had realized they just needed to wait. Right?

She glanced over at him. Darnic wasn't paying Shirou the slightest bit of attention, his furious gaze locked only on Rin. Her name and her jeering had worked exactly as intended and thrown the leader of Yggdmillenia completely off balance, preventing him from seeing the big picture.

That left it to her. If she spoke, the entire power balance of the negotiations could shift back to them. They could just wait the Reality Marble out and defeat—kill, she reminded herself—the Blue Faction back in the real world. But on the other hand, Tohsaka could still decide her best choice was to cut her losses and just unleash the Sword of Promised Victory.

Regardless of which way it went, Fiore didn't particularly like either of those outcomes. The Blue Faction had just saved Saber. Were they going to thank these people for their goodwill—goodwill that wasn't just unprecedented, but if the girl's claim was true, completely undeserved—by _executing them?_ She didn't want them to die for stopping to help, even though they were enemies.

She held her silence.

Tohsaka growled in frustration. She broke her stare with Vlad. "Alright, fine. You have a deal, Lancer of Black."

The King of Romania smirked. "Excellent. Once again, I grant you my sincerest thanks for saving Siegfried from his own foolishness. I look forward to facing such honorable opponents as this war continues."

Tohsaka sighed. "Yeah, sure, whatever. With your Saber's code of honor, we'll get that scabbard back sooner or later. I would just have preferred it sooner."

Darnic scowled. "What concern should I have for the desires of a dead little girl?"

"Ex _cuse_ me? In my twenties here. I'm not young, you're just a fossil. And at the risk of mistaking your intentions for something incredibly foolish, I can assure you, I'm very real. You only have to look at any of your companions' reactions. Pay more attention, old man, or your followers might think you're going senile."

" _You—!_ "

Vlad held out an arm.

"I commend you for having the capacity to unsettle my Master at all, let alone make him lose his composure, but if we continue at this pace, neither side is going anywhere."

"…Indeed," Darnic ground his teeth, "If we're quite done, let us leave this place."

Rin shrugged, then nodded.

"Fine. Shirou, we're done here," she ordered, then more quietly, added. "Sorry to work you this hard."

But the apprentice's reaction wasn't one of relief, as Fiore had expected. Instead, a stern expression spread across his face.

"Actually, no. We're not done," Shirou stepped forward. "Before I let any of you go, I need you to answer a question."

Darnic's eyebrow twitched. "What is it now?"

"When you stole the Greater Grail, was it corrupted?"

Huh?

Fiore's eyebrows shot up in confusion. She exchanged a glance with Archer, but for once the wise sage looked just as befuddled as her.

"I haven't the first idea what sort of delusion you're raving about now," Darnic spat. "The Grail, corrupted. Corrupted by _what_ , exactly?!"

Shirou narrowed his eyes.

"I guess you'd call it… All the World's Evils."

For a moment, Darnic looked ready to laugh in Shirou's face, but Ruler's gasp gave him pause.

"All the World's Evils? In another world, it _is_ true that Angra Mainyu was summoned and became trapped in the Grail… Could that be the cause of these revelations?"

"Angry Man You? Is there somebody trapped in the Grail?" Astolfo wondered out loud. "Uh, we should probably do something about that."

"Can you please just… stop talking?" Rin asked. "You're _really_ nice, but honestly, every time you open your mouth, you give me a _terrible_ headache."

"Angra Mainyu was the entity—a god, really—in the ancient Zoroastrian culture that we would equate with Satan," Jeanne explained to the fidgety Rider.

Astolfo paled.

"Okay. That'll sure keep me awake at night," he stammered.

"In truth, I highly doubt that the Heroic Spirit I mentioned was the actual god, but even sharing its name would have unspeakable ramifications. An Avenger class Servant… A creature such as that would sooner be forcibly erased from all existence than let go of its anger even for a second. Even a powerless Heroic Spirit would be unspeakably dangerous if it could prevent itself from dying out of sheer desperation to share its own suffering. Especially with all the powers of the Holy Grail at its disposal."

Fiore noticed Celenike raise an eyebrow, as though she was intrigued by the prospect. Not a good sign. The curse specialist had been acting a little strange ever since Rider had run off.

However, this was nothing compared to the volcano poised to erupt to be found in Darnic. Several veins in his forehead were pulsing, visibly standing out against his skin. He seemed so agitated that Fiore worried his heart might give out. Slowly, his lips parted to speak.

"There is no one… and _nothing_ … in the Grail."

"Are you completely sure about that?" Shirou asserted. "Because if there is, whatever wish anyone tries to make on it _wil l_ cause a disaster. The kind of nightmare you couldn't even imagine. Thousands upon thousands of curses will pour out of the Grail and create Hell on Earth. Your castle will _melt_. Metal will turn to slag and the earth will turn to ash. Trifas will burn, and nothing will be left but charred debris and thousands of crumbling skeletons that were innocent people before you tried to make a wish. Nothing will live on this patch of land _ever again_ , and that's _if_ it doesn't spread further. And no one, not even the Mage's Association will be able to explain what happened."

"That's… oddly specific," Caules remarked, but Shirou's tone had made sweat bead on his forehead.

"…uuunnn," Berserker nodded in a rare show of agreement.

Shirou nodded as well.

"I agree. It is. But it's something you need to at least be aware of. Are you prepared to risk that?"

" _Happily!_ There is _nothing_ out of the ordinary in the Grail," Darnic snarled, "I was very thorough about assessing its condition during the summonings. Perhaps you should do something similar with your _head_. Moreover, I've never heard of any such Servant called an Avenger. In the previous Holy Grail War, the Einzbern clan did summon an eighth class, but it was the same as that of the girl that Rider claims you arrived here with." A grim leer split his face, "And even then, their Ruler class Servant could not save them from me. Are you satisfied yet, boy?"

"That doesn't really inspire much confidence," Astolfo interjected. "Boss, are you _sure_ that Avenger thing isn't stuck in the Grail? Because I'm no genius, but I don't have to be to know that if it is, from the sound of what we just heard, this story isn't going to have a very happy ending."

"You're going to stop speaking above your station, Rider," Celenike hissed. "Next time you attempt to give orders to a Master, I'll use a Command Spell to seal your mouth shut."

"Huh? But I didn't—" a glare from his Master silenced him. "Uh… okay."

Shirou sighed, shaking his head at Astolfo's antics before turning to look at Darnic. "If you're telling the truth, I suppose that's a relief. But if you're lying, I won't be the one who gets hurt." Fiore suddenly realized that he was sweating. He wasn't speaking out of paranoia. Something had happened to this man. Something horrible. And she wasn't sure she was at all prepared to hear any more about it.

"Wonderful," Darnic spat. "Now, if you would kindly dispel the Reality Marble, I have a Rider that needs to have its fingers broken.

"Yeah!" Rider of Black exclaimed. "That Rider needs to— _wait what!?_ " he bristled like a startled cat. And then immediately got distracted; "Oh, hey, look! That's my sword!" He pointed at a weapon embedded in the ground that was obviously a replica of the sword that the homunculus now carried. "Can I— _whoa!_ "

Fiore saw Shirou nod, and then saw no more as her vision whited out, and the world of endless swords disappeared.

* * *

 **And with a little bit of improvising, the Blue Faction comes out alive.**

 **They aren't in perfect condition, they had to use every trump card they had to get away, but they did get away. Just, without Avalon. Slightly problematic, but not a deal breaker. They'll need to regroup and come up with a new plan.**

 **For those curious, Rin's incantation roughly means: "May not voice, not a breath leave your lips, the sound of your voice shall never resound!"**

 **A huge thank you to my patrons: ArcherMcMuffin, Gregg Tracton, Keith Traction and Cool guy.**

 **Thank you for Reading! I hope you enjoy what comes next!**

 **Go Forth and Conquer!**


	9. Chapter 8

**The chapter of October... on November 2nd...**

 **Deepest apologies for the lateness of this chapter. Real life has been irritatingly rough recently and I was barely able to keep up with my weekly series. Good news is, that story is on hiatus for the next month, so I will be able to get back on track with this. Thank you for your patience.**

 **Beta-ed by Draconic**

* * *

" _Owww!_ " Astolfo cried. "Would you please ease up a little?!"

Siegfried sighed. After the others had returned from dealing the homunculus and the Blue Faction, Lord Vlad had sentenced both him and Rider to the dungeon for a few days as punishment for their actions. Considering said actions nearly deprived Yggdmillienia's arsenal of a crucial resource—and succeeded in the case of the escaped homunculus boy—it was a fair judgment on the Lord Impaler's part. He and Rider stood in opposite cells, facing each other through a set of iron bars.

Though Rider's Master, Lady Celenike, had apparently decided to add her own punishment to the mix. Though her curses could not bypass Astolfo's ludicrously powerful Magic Resistance, she had beseeched Lancer enough that the king had provided her with some of his stakes to use. Thus, Rider was now impaled into the dungeon wall by his hands and Siegfried was left very thankful that Kazikli Bey could not penetrate his armor.

"We all nearly _died!_ " Celenike screeched. She twisted the spike going through Rider's palms as she got in his face. "If that Periwinkle girl hadn't needed us alive to fight the Red Faction, her little pets would have slaughtered us all right there! And all because of _you!_ "

Siegfried wanted to intercede, to protest that the incident Archer had informed him of inside the Blue Faction's Reality Marble was not solely Rider's responsibility. Indeed, he himself should have gotten Lord Gordes back to the castle faster so he could have returned to help. If he had been around to counter the King of Knights, perhaps one of the others could have defeated the young man and forced him to drop the Reality Marble. He couldn't say a word though: Now that the emergency situation regarding the homunculus boy had ended, the command that his Master gave him to remain silent—an order that he had shamefully violated multiple times—was back in effect.

Though, to his eternal dishonor, he was secretly quite glad the Blue Faction had been able to escape unharmed. They did not have to assist him in any way. Indeed, the more strategic choice would have been to let him die, but instead, they used one of the most powerful Noble Phantasms in existence to save him from his own sacrifice. They were still enemies due to their factions, but the Dragon Slayer held all three of them in the highest respect. Even if he knew how to release the scabbard from inside of him as Lord Darnic and Lady Fiore requested of him, which he didn't, he would do his best to retain the sheath and see it safely returned to the King of Knights before their promised rematch.

"Sorry! But how was I supposed to know that guy had a freaking _Reality Marble_?" Astolfo grunted. "I mean who even _has_ one of those things these days?! No one! I mean obviously that Shirou guy does, but… You know what I mean. I _really_ don't see how this is my—gah!"

Lady Celenike twisted the spike, drawing blood from her Heroic Spirit. "We never would have been in that mess in the first place if _you_ hadn't tried to release that damned homunculus!"

"Hey! I _succeeded_ in releasing that homunculus!" he corrected in a brief show of defiance. "That's really the only thing I can take credit for here."

The proud tone he used was apparently a mistake. An enraged howl escaped Celenike's throat as she smashed Rider back against the wall she'd (literally) pinned him to. She left the cell, slammed the iron cage door shut and stormed off.

It was honestly a little unsettling. Maybe Siegfried could ask Archer about meditation techniques the lady could utilize to calm her nerves. On the other hand, would she really take such things to heart? She actually seemed to enjoy being angry.

Also, that wasn't even the real problem: The issue was that in order to help Lady Celenike, someone would have to communicate with her, and experience had shown clearly that any interaction with Celenike Icecolle resulted in a laundry list of undesirable consequences, including but not limited to molestation, threats, broken fingers, and multiple stab wounds.

…

She probably had everything under control. She was the very picture of sanity and mental wellbeing. There was no conceivable reason to bother her.

"Ow, ow, ow!" Astolfo whined. "Why is she so mean?!"

As though on cue, Archer materialized before the Paladin.

"Should I have intervened on your behalf?"

Rider shrugged. "You had nothing to do with this. I did something stupid and now I'm being punished for it. That's all this is." He tilted his head to look past Chiron and gave Siegfried a stink eye. "Though I think it's a little unfair that I'm the only one getting tortured when I wasn't the one who _ripped out his own heart!_ "

Siegfried bowed his head in shame.

Rider's face lit up with a cheery smile. "Hey, no need to get all down about it. What you did was really noble. It just wasn't very smart. And let's face it, if _I_ can say that unironically, you're probably doing something seriously wrong."

Archer sighed. "I may have worded it a bit differently, but I can agree with that assessment. Though, Saber cannot receive similar punishment as you since his Armor of Fafnir protects him from harm everywhere save the one vulnerable spot on his back, and that area is so sensitive that allowing Lady Celenike to practice her… hobby around that area would be quite unwise."

The sage shook his head at the both of them. "Everyone was saying that you both lost all rationality. I cannot say for certain if that's true just yet, but Lord Vlad is quite a wise leader; I doubt you'll be in here for long."

"More importantly, I hope that boy is going to be okay," Rider mused, still smiling.

"He should be," Archer assured him. He nodded to Siegfried. "Assuming Saber's heart is functioning properly, his body will have been strengthened a great deal. He will be able to live his life freely as a human being."

"Jeanne d'Arc swore she'd protect him too," Rider grinned. "Though to be honest, if the Blue guys hadn't saved Saber too, I'd have found it a little annoying that the four of them just showed up out of nowhere to save the day. Has she finished checking the Grail? We don't have that Angry Maniac, or… whatever it was called… in there, do we?"

Archer chuckled. "No. Ruler has communed with the Grail and confirmed that Shirou's fears were unnecessary. The wish the chalice grants should proceed as the user desires."

Siegfried sighed in relief. He had not been present when the young boy had detailed the consequences of using a corrupted Holy Grail, but even Rider's less than specific description had invoked a silent dread in the knight. If the wish made on the Grail could bring only destruction, then he'd have felt obligated to do all in his power to ensure it never granted one, even if that meant the ultimate betrayal of the Black Faction: Destroying the Grail itself. It was a weight off his shoulders to know such measures would not need to be taken.

"She and the homunculus set out with the Blue Faction a little while ago," Archer continued. "She will make sure they go the requisite distance from here that the ceasefire demands."

A frown crossed Rider's face, far more serious than his usual expressions. "So, the Blue Faction is with that boy?"

Archer cocked an eyebrow. "Yes. Is that a problem? They spoke up in his defense when Lord Darnic and Caster wanted to take him, though that may have been motivated by a desire to deprive us of a resource."

"Nah, they wanted to protect him," Rider refuted immediately. "They're good people. It's just… well… a Reality Marble is someone's inner world, right? A reflection of their soul?"

"It is," Archer confirmed. "What are you getting at, Rider?"

"Well, you'd think a soul would be filled with, you know, life. People, grass, sunshine. You know, lively stuff," Astolfo explained. "But that boy, Shirou… his world was just swords. I could barely see the sky through the smoke. He's a good guy, but what he said about the grail's corruption, what it could do… I don't think he was giving us an expectation. That was the warning of a person who'd already lived it. If he's been in another Grail War somewhere, what he described actually happened. And obviously, it did something to him. Or he did something to himself in response to it… trying to do something to him? But whatever he is now… I'm just worried about what it could mean for the homunculus."

"You think that he might have a negative influence on the boy?"

"He did just help save his life. I would admire anyone who did that for anyone, let alone me. And for most people, that's fine, just because you admire someone doesn't mean you're going to copy them. But that boy, the homunculus… he has the will to live, but up until a few days ago, he was a blank slate. He's still developing his identity. I want him to live, to go out into the world, learn what it's like to love or even hate someone, not break himself trying to follow in someone else's footsteps."

Siegfried didn't really comprehend what Astolfo was worried about. The Blue Faction had a war to fight. Perhaps they would travel with Ruler while they escorted the homunculus to his new life, but they wouldn't stick around and involve him. Besides, there were many people who assisted in the boy's liberation, even he himself had played a minor role. Naturally, the homunculus would hold admiration for the magus, but he would hold that same esteem for the King of Knights, Ruler, and especially Rider himself. He would take the foundation of his new ideals from all of them.

Though honestly, Siegfried didn't understand why it would be so terrible for the boy to hold Shirou as his idol. The red-haired magus seemed to have earned the respect of the King of Knights, and his past interactions with Lord Gordes had shown him to be merciful and kind, just as a hero should be. If this age was capable of sending souls to the Throne, he had no doubt Shirou would make a more than worthwhile addition to its ranks.

Archer tilted his head to the side, a perplexed stare fixed on the Paladin. "I am surprised at the detail of your reasoning, Rider. I did not think you one for such thoughts."

"Eh, there was no moon in that Reality Marble," Astolfo chirped. "You know me, the moon stole my sanity, so being in a universe where it's not just new but doesn't even exist. Man, I would have turned into a genius if we'd stayed much longer."

"You took the sight of your fellow Paladin's sword as a sign that he was present in a modern mage's inner world," Archer deadpanned.

"Hey, I said genius, not focused."

Archer sighed. "Clearly. Nevertheless, you need not worry. The homunculus is not alone with Shirou, he shouldn't develop any obsession."

"But guy time!" Rider protested.

…

"…Guy time?"

"Yeah. They're the only boys in the group." Astolfo insisted as if Archer had somehow missed that. "Surrounded by women, they'll eventually have to take some time for themselves to escape the all-encompassing feminine mystique! You know, to talk about manly things!"

Chiron stared at the paladin. "And exactly what sort of 'manly' topics would they be discussing?"

Astolfo furrowed his brow in thought. After an agonizingly slow minute, he finally answered.

"I dunno. Steak?"

…

…

"Rider… you're speaking complete nonsense," Archer said.

"What? You wound me, Archer."

"I should hope not. Causing you injury could trigger your Master's apparent territorial instincts. And I would consider encroaching upon her domain to be a decidedly reckless act."

"Aw, please. She won't mind in the slightest."

An eerie creak echoed through the dungeon, the entrance to the complex opening wide, letting artificial light slink into the dark halls from the castle proper.

"Oh no! She heard us!" Rider squealed. "Hide, Chiron! Wait, no! _You_ hide _me!_ "

The Sage of Heroes merely shook his head in exasperation and dissipated into the aether with a scattering of blue particles.

While Rider shivered in his restraints, Siegfried turned towards the hall. It seemed out of character for Lady Celenike to return so soon after she had stormed out. She usually called a few of the homunculi to her room after losing her temper, and in the very short period since he'd been summoned, that had already happened on more than one occasion. When she did this, she generally wouldn't come out for a few hours. The knight tried not to think about what she had done to those unfortunate souls. The woman stank of blood. Perhaps not something a normal human being would be able to notice, but for a practiced warrior, there was no mistaking it. How many homunculi had she already killed?

Whatever the case, this wasn't going to end well.

However, he and Rider both noticed something at the same time. The sound of the footfalls was the sound of dress shoes. And while this didn't necessarily mean anything, all of Celenike's shoes were heels, which did produce a distinctively different echo against the floor. So, who was coming down?

That question was answered for Siegfried as he saw his own Master trudge over to his cell, open the door, and step inside, a slight limp in his step and a half-full bottle of whiskey swaying from his grip. He made his way across from his Servant and leaned back against the bars.

For a moment, all the poor man did was stare at Siegfried, his furious gaze washing all over the knight, heedless of the bags under his eyes.

"You look the same," Gordes muttered.

Siegfried raised an eyebrow but held his tongue as per his orders.

"I said you look the same!" the portly mage repeated louder, his bottle smacking into the iron bars behind him, a resounding clang echoing through the air. "They informed me that you tore out your own heart. You tore out your own heart for that homunculus. I assumed there'd at least be a scar. But no… You're a Servant. Of course, you wouldn't scar."

Siegfried remained silent. He wasn't sure if the question was rhetorical, or if not, whether holding himself to his Master's command for silence would better help his mental state. Breaking it during the earlier incident had certainly not helped their relationship.

"Oh, for the love of— Speak, you useless Servant!" Gordes shouted. "Forget that order. Why would you choose now to start obeying my commands, anyway?"

Siegfried bowed his head. "Forgive me, Master. I am an unworthy Servant."

"Uh, _no!_ You're really not," said Rider. "Stop being so down on yourself, Saber. You just ripped out your heart to save someone you didn't even know. If that's not the essence of true heroism, then I don't know what is!"

"Yes, ripping out your own heart for a mere homunculus. A creature with no personality or identity," Lord Gordes hissed. "For that, you attacked your own Master."

"Aaaand he's turned it around on you," Rider added in what seemed to be turning into a running commentary.

Siegfried cringed. His intentions had been good, but his actions had still been a serious breach of his oath. His Master had been too stressed at the time to be safely reasoned with, so he had done what he'd thought had been best for everyone. Obviously, he should have thought harder on the matter.

"Fiore told me about Rider's report. About how you saved him because that was your wish," Gordes muttered. "Is that true?"

"It is, Master," he nodded. "My sole wish, for the Grail and for my summoning, was to save someone. Not because they asked me to, but because I wanted to. I apologize that I could not remember sooner. If I had answered your concerns earlier, perhaps this situation would not have arisen."

Gordes' grip on his whiskey tightened. "Saving… someone…"

"Yeah, saving people!" Rider called out. "You know, that thing that heroes do."

The Paladin's words had barely left his mouth when Lord Gordes whirled around and chucked his bottle through the bars of Astolfo's cell, the glass shattering around course stone.

"What foolishness is this!?" Gordes roared. He glared at Siegfried, his eye bloodshot and tear stained. "Saving someone? That's what this nonsense has been about? Preposterous! I could almost understand if you only lived for the thrill of battle, but… you want to live just so you can help other people? People you've never even met? That is positively _asinine!_ "

Siegfried understood his Master's fury. Lord Gordes was a mage, through and through. And in the world of magecraft, one's personal power was everything. There was no room for such things as compassion for others. Outsiders were kept out of mage affairs because new families of magic users would stretch the world's already thin supply of prana even further. Helping people they didn't know was simply not an effective use of time, energy, or resources.

"A goal for yourself, I could understand. A quest for some loved one, I could admire. But _this!_ " the man continued to rage. "You caused all this upheaval because you wanted to play savior to a disposable tool! You made Darnic so… so…"

Siegfried raised his head at the pause in his master's speech. His eyes widened.

"Master… are you… crying?"

Gordes immediately shoved his arm across his face and wiped away the errant tears. "No, you fool! Don't talk such nonsense! Darnic was simply… displeased that I did not inform him of the girl's name previously. How was I supposed to know she was really a Tohsaka? They were wiped out! And the boy, he only used Gradation Air! What part of that could I possibly have extrapolated to reach the conclusion that he had a _Reality Marble_?!"

For once, Siegfried's silence was not from an order. He simply did not know what to say. He knew his master had been struggling under Lord Darnic's expectations, but he had failed to understand just how heavy the burden had been weighing upon him. He, as his Servant, should have done something to ease his suffering but he… he hadn't.

As usual, only one phrase came to mind.

"I'm sorry."

Gordes heaved a sigh and sank back against the iron bars, falling to his knee. Black dirt coated his pristine white jacket. "You keep _saying_ that, but you don't seem to _act_ on it. You are my Servant. You are supposed to be my weapon to wield."

"Ugh!" Rider groaned. "This again. Why are all you mages so dead set on seeing us as nothing more than weapons? If that's all you wanted, you should have just summoned our Noble Phantasms and fought it out yourselves."

"We brought you into this world," Gordes snarled. "Our magical energy sustains you here. You swore your loyalty in exchange for that privilege. You are literally called Servants!"

"A Servant isn't a weapon. Or an attack dog. Well, I guess Berserker kind of is, but that's beside the point," Astolfo countered. "Back in my time, if my king did something stupid or unjust, I would have called him out on it, but that didn't mean I wasn't still loyal to him. Granted, he was him and I was me, so that never happened and most of the time he was keeping me from running around naked with a donkey strapped to my back… uhhh…" he shrank back against the all under Gordes' withering glare, "I swear there was a point to all of this, but I don't think I have one anymore."

"I disagree, Rider," Siegfried confirmed to his genuine surprise.

"He does?!"

"I do?"

Siegfried nodded, the spark of inspiration Rider's speech had lit fanning into a bonfire of realization. He gazed down on his defeated lord.

"Master, let me try to explain this in a manner suitable to your current outlook. You have been trying to wield me like a weapon, a warhammer to batter your foes into submission," he began gently. "But I am not a blunt instrument. I am a sword. You are trying to use a sword as you would a warhammer and it has, in turn, failed to provide optimal results. I should have realized this sooner and alerted you to the issue."

"What in blazes are you on about, Saber?" Gordes demanded.

"Master, have you ever fought in a war?" Saber asked. "I have. I fought many during my lifetime, and though my invulnerability granted me much of my success, I could not have achieved all I did had I not learned other aspects of a soldier's duties. Tactics, strategies, methods to ensure victory even in defeat. I am not a simplistic attack dog, my lord. I am your Servant, a hero, a knight, and a battle-tested warrior. But I cannot help you win this war if you refuse to allow me to provide you with advice when appropriate. Please, let me help you. And the next time we meet Saber of Blue, I shall emerge victorious in your name, with our honor intact."

For a long moment, there was silence, even from Astolfo. Perhaps they were merely surprised he could speak so intensely after his tenure of silence?

Finally, Lord Gordes rose to his feet, his eyes thin and considering, their gaze on the cracked floor as his fingers twitched. He raised his fist, the back of his hand, and the single Command Seal upon it, invading his vision.

"Fine," he huffed. "I suppose it couldn't be any worse than how things have been. I'll accept your counsel for now, Saber. But if you start suggesting we go out and pull cats out of trees, I swear you'll wish you had lost your heart to that homunculus."

Siegfried smiled. "Thank you, Master. I swear on my honor as a knight, I will not fail you."

"That remains to be seen," Lord Gordes growled. The mage stumbled towards the cell door but paused before he could exit. He turned back to Siegfried. "One thing is non-negotiable. I don't know how far this foolish wish of yours extends, but you will not refuse the magical energy supplied by the other homunculi. I don't care what sentimentality you might have."

Siegfried frowned. "Master… they are innocents."

"They are tools. I created them for that specific purpose," Gordes sighed. "Besides, Darnic certainly won't let any more of them escape. They're not going away, so you might as well use them to fight to your fullest. If you're going to call yourself a sword, then you need to be properly sharpened. Is that understood?"

Siegfried considered trying to convince his master otherwise, but in the end, he nodded. He had made some progress repairing his relationship with his summoner. He shouldn't push his luck. He bid the kin of the boy he'd saved a silent apology as his master left the cell, hoping that he could gain enough influence to help them later.

"I'll see what I can do about having Lancer release you from here a bit sooner," Gordes promised, passing through the cell door.

"Aw. Really?" Astolfo brightened up.

" _Not you_ , you rambling imbecile! You can rot for all I care! It's your fault that all this happened to begin with!"

"Oh yeah? …well… um… no, _you_ shut up!"

Lord Gordes growled and stormed out of the dungeon in a huff.

Rider stuck his tongue out at the mage. Only when the chamber's door swung closed with a heavy thud did the Paladin fall back with a sigh.

"What a bag of hot air, I don't know how you deal with him."

Siegfried shrugged. "Until recently, I had failed to do so for the most part. But despite his temper, Master Gordes is a good man. I am proud to be his Servant."

Rider cocked an eyebrow. "You really sure about that? He just seems like an angry windbag to me. Though, given what my Master's like, I probably don't have much of a right to judge."

The Paladin of Charlemagne flashed Siegfried a sincere smile. "By the way, I don't think I've said it yet, but thank you for what you did in the forest. You saved that boy."

"You saved him," Siegfried protested. "You protected him, shielded him. I merely came to my senses in time to help."

"Ugh! You really are stubborn," Rider mused. "Fine. We can say we both saved him. But I'm still saying you did seventy-five percent of it."

Siegfried chuckled and shook his head merrily at Astolfo's words. He didn't know if he agreed with his comrade's words, but he decided he didn't care. No matter who got how much credit, no matter who had helped, they had still saved that homunculus. They had saved an innocent boy. That was what mattered.

And wherever he went now, whatever he did with the life he had claimed, Siegfried could only hope he found something he could enjoy for all his days.

* * *

 **FATEFATEFATEFATE**

"So, you slice the carrots like this?"

"Yeah, you're doing it almost perfectly actually. Just make sure the blade is moving away from you, and keep your fingers curled inward. That way you won't accidentally cut yourself."

The boy gulped and shifted the knife's edge away from himself, slicing the vegetable in his hands into evenly sized pieces. His expression was serious as he took to his task with unbending focus. Shirou was surprised by how quickly the boy learned. Though he sometimes needed to have things explained more than once, he caught on very easily from a process of observation and imitation.

Shirou smiled at the young homunculus. After Ruler had returned from inspecting the Grail and confirmed that it was safe, the party had set out across the Romanian countryside. Along the way, Ruler had discussed the basic aspects of the homunculus' new human existence, including the necessity of a name. When asked to choose one, he had chosen Sieg. In his own words, if the Hero of the Nibelungenlied was willing to give his life to save him, he should do his best to honor him somehow, even if it was just with a name.

Shirou couldn't help but smile when he'd overheard that. Even if he was a blank slate as Rin said, the newly christened Sieg had a good heart, inherited or not. Granted, he himself had inherited a great deal from his own father, and he'd seen where that unwavering observance would lead him. Though in his defense, how could he have predicted his dream's natural conclusion was for him to go back in time in an attempt to kill his past self on the infinitesimally slim chance that it would cause a time paradox catastrophic enough to erase him from history?

On the other hand, when people started getting annoyed at you, or just feeling uncomfortable whenever you offered to help with something, he could have at least gotten a clue.

Perhaps that was why he'd taken to their new friend so quickly, wishing to help a fellow blank slate develop an identity that, if nothing else, wouldn't lead to him becoming a self-sacrificing fool.

It could also be that he was falling back into his old habits, or was feeling nostalgic from cooking with a junior?

Or maybe it was just the memory of a little girl with pale hair and crimson eyes, the last homunculus he'd had any real interaction with, even if she'd introduced herself as an enemy. The last homunculus he had been powerless to save.

He shook his head to dislodge such thoughts. He couldn't change the past and save Illya, but they had succeeded in saving Sieg. In the morning, they would leave him in the care of Serge, the kind old man who'd agreed to shelter them for the night (he'd been especially accommodating after Shirou had made dinner), and the freed homunculus for longer, even donating his old war sash to house the sword that Rider of Black had gifted him.

Astolfo… The Blue Faction had paid a heavy price to escape, but they did not come out empty handed. With the exception of Caster, who had not possessed a weapon, they now knew the identities of nearly every Black Servant, which meant they knew who they needed to plan around. The Paladin of Charlemagne and their Berserker, Frankenstein's Monster, were surprisingly weak as Servants went. One would think that if Yggdmillenia had spent decades planning the Great Holy Grail War, they'd have taken preparation to make sure all of their Heroic Spirits were the best they could be. As it was, he could probably hold off each of them without his Reality Marble, and within it, he would be able to hold them back long enough to summon an Anti-Army Noble Phantasm and obliterate them.

Of course, that didn't mean that the rest of their opposition were pushovers. Aside from the obvious points of Vlad and Siegfried, there was also Chiron, the Sage of Heroes. Shirou had no idea why he wasn't a centaur, but he knew better than to underestimate the person who'd trained Heracles. Berserker hadn't only nearly killed Saber, he'd almost killed Gilgamesh, even without a way to counter the Gate of Babylon. And that was Heracles deprived of his senses. The man who could forge a hero such as that was a force to be reckoned with. Chiron's stats, revealed from tracing his bow, didn't put him too far below his student, with the sole obvious exception being that he lacked the same brute strength, and with his Clairvoyance Skill, even landing a blow would be difficult. If Saber hadn't been there to guard him, the Grecian trainer could have eschewed his bow and just put a fist through his chest before he'd gotten the chance to fire a single sword.

Still, one on one, he was confident Saber could beat him. She'd held her own against Heracles with him as her master. With Rin as her power source, she wouldn't have too much trouble with the teacher. His greater concern was Assassin of Black, or rather, its conspicuous absence. Unlimited Blade Works had been the perfect environment for an invisible, undetectable assailant to bypass his notice and take him out before Saber could act.

Yet, there was no sign of them. Why? Had their Assassin been sent to scout the Red Faction? No, Yggdmillenia had the Greater Grail, they had no reason to go on the offensive. Had they lost control of them perhaps? It wasn't as if Servants going rogue was uncommon in Holy Grail Wars. Archer had done so in his war, and Tohsaka had told him about how Lancer had saved her by shredding Kotomine's innards.

Shirou heaved out a sigh. He needed to forget about the war, at least for the night. Their host had already turned in, and Rin and Saber would likely do the same after they finished their talk with Ruler. They were safe from the Black Faction, at least for the next few days. He had a very unhealthy habit of over-focusing on whatever conflict he was involved in, often neglecting himself in the few moments of rest he did get. He may have been a sword, but even he needed sleep to fight at the best of his ability.

No, for now, he just needed to relax, clear his mind, and teach Sieg the joys of cooking.

"Shirou?"

The redhead turned around. Ruler was just reaching the bottom of the stairs, her shoulders sagged within her civilian garb. Sieg pulled out some Tupperware from a drawer and started loading what food he'd made into it.

Shirou smiled sadly at the Maid of Orleans. "I take it this means you're heading out?"

"It does," Ruler nodded. "While I am immensely grateful for the assistance you all have lent me, it is my duty above all to remain impartial in this Holy Grail War. Traveling with one faction is preferential by nature, whether that is my intention or not."

"No need to explain. We understand," said Shirou. He was certain that Rin and Saber had said the same thing. "Do you have any idea where you'll be heading now?"

"I have communed with the Holy Grail and confirmed that whatever irregularity is afoot in this war, it likely does not originate with the Black Faction," Jeanne informed him. "Thus, the next logical course of action would be to meet with the Red Faction at their base in Sighisoara."

"With Shirou Kotomine," the redhead finished with a frown. "Are you sure you don't want to stay the night? He seems nice, but dealing with a Kotomine isn't something to be done without a good night's sleep. Besides, if Lancer's Master is around, he might have Karna take you out before you can talk to him."

Ruler blessed him with a gentle smile. "Thank you for your concern, Shirou. But I should be fine. Karna caught me off guard in our last encounter, but if I can see him coming, I should be able to use a Command Seal to force him to stand down. And I'm fairly certain that this priest can't possibly be as bad as you and Rin suggest him to be."

"Probably," Shirou confessed. "We are mostly making assumptions off our dealings with his brother. I guess we have a bit of a bias."

"Don't worry," Jeanne comforted him. "While making a prejudiced judgment is certainly not something to be applauded, if you recognize your error, you can make efforts to atone."

"True. But that's easier said than done."

His mind flashed to his field of blades, the sky clouded but with sunlight still shining through. Then he saw it darken, the firmament turned to black smog and titanic gears rise into the air. He saw his world of swords become a factory, a machine desperate to reach its end goal, yet knowing it never would.

His dream was not a mistake and he knew he had to be satisfied with never reaching it. But that didn't mean he had forgotten just how ruthless Archer could be. Nor that there was still a significant link between the two of them, the Black Command Seals on his hands proof of that.

Making efforts to correct your errors sounded so simple. Yet, how was a sword to keep from becoming a tool?

"Ruler," Sieg came forward with arms full of food containers. "Thank you so much for everything you've done for me. Please take this as a token of my appreciation. I apologize that it's not as good as Mr. Emiya's, but hopefully I'll get better."

"Oh," Jeanne gasped, taking the gift in her arms. "Thank you, Sieg. But this is unnecessary. I did not do what I did for a reward."

"Mr. Emiya?" Shirou turned the words over in his mouth. This only made them sound weirder to him.

"You will need food for your travels," Sieg pointed out. "Your body is unable to enter spirit form, so this way you won't need to stop for sustenance. Besides, is it not customary for people to return favors?"

"Well… I suppose," Jeanne reluctantly conceded. Her eyes worriedly flickered over the boy. "Though, carrying all this seems a bit unwieldy. I don't think it will fit in my new briefcase."

"I'll find a bag."

As Sieg bustled off into another room, Ruler turned back to Shirou, her amethyst eyes hard and focused.

"That boy," she murmured. "He isn't out of danger."

"What do you mean?" Shirou asked. "If you're worried about us attracting danger, we'll be gone in the morning."

"No, that isn't it," said Ruler. "I had a revelation. I saw him, on his knees and bleeding in the middle of a…" she trailed off, staring at Shirou with a melancholic, yet wary look in her eye.

Shirou waited, but when she seemed unwilling to continue, he decided he couldn't just leave it. This actually reminded him of the way Issei had avoided getting to the point when Shinji's Rider Servant attacked Ayako.

"Ruler, tell me. Where was he?"

Her answer was quiet, almost as though she were somehow ashamed.

"It was… a field full of swords."

"What?" Shirou gasped, the scenery not lost on him. "Are you saying—?"

"I do not know. It could be your world, or it could another battlefield. The imagery was not distinct," Jeanne shook her head. "I will do my best to keep him off this path as much as possible, but with this, along with those black Command Seals… I do not think this Grail War is entirely done with him."

"It is," Shirou declared, iron in his eyes. "Dead Count Shapeshifter—"

He almost felt sympathy pain when he saw the look in Jeanne's eyes upon his use of the term.

"I hate that they're called that…" she murmured.

"Calling them anything else won't change what they mean for him if he uses them."

"I know that, but—" she stopped herself before raising her voice. She sighed. "No, you're right. I apologize for my outburst. I just cannot understand why an innocent boy has to die. He didn't choose this for himself."

"Well, regardless of those Command Seals, he _will_ get the chance to live his own life. I'll make sure of it."

Jeanne grimaced. "I pray that you are right. Though while the Lord may be loving, the paths that lead to him are rarely easy."

Shirou couldn't find it in himself to argue. He may not have believed in a higher power in the same way the Saint did, but he was more than acquainted with how cruel fate could be.

"Speaking of, however," Ruler began again. "I don't suppose you have received another message from Heroic Spirit EMIYA? Perhaps something more about this so-called 'power-up' he mentioned?"

"Unfortunately, no," Shirou sighed. "Aside from needing some sort of catchphrase to activate it and him not wanting it to be 'For Great Justice,' he's been himself about the subject. Which is to say, annoyingly tight-lipped. Although I at least figured out why it was so weird.

"The old man has an old computer in his study, so I just figured I'd looked up the phrase online and see if anything happened. And, well, what I found out reminded me of something. In my last year of high school, Taiga—you remember Tohsaka mentioned her—left an emulator on an old friend's computer—without permission, mind you—along with an English version of an old video game. The translation was appalling, and she assigned the both of us to figure out what it was supposed to say. You've never heard it, but there's this obscure joke called 'all your base is belong to us.' It's a line in the game. Shortly after that, the phrase 'for great justice' is used. Put simply, there's no significance to the phrase whatsoever. The only remotely useful thing I managed to get out of it was what Taiga wanted me to extrapolate from the bad translation. And that's several years too late."

"Hmm… unhelpful," Jeanne grimaced. "It also begs the question, why is a creature who's thousands of years old and has the wisdom of ages at his fingertips repeating old jokes about bad grammar?"

"The old man has too much time on his hands," Rin said as she walked back into the kitchen, fetching a glass and pouring a cup of water for herself before heading back to the room they were sharing with Saber. "Just leave it at that."

Shirou shrugged to the Saint. "He's also really touchy about anything having to do with 'justice'."

Jeanne sighed and shook her head.

"Still, at least we know some sort of aria is required," she said. "Perhaps if you can figure that out, you can at least determine the specifics on what they actually do. And hopefully, whether 'shapeshifter' is meant as something literal or figurative."

Shirou shrugged. "Maybe. Any clues you could give me?"

"Well… the Holy Grail System is essentially a version of the Third Magic, is it not?" said Ruler. "So, if the regular Command Seals are produced as a byproduct of the Heaven's Feel, perhaps these modified versions will perform a similar variation?"

"What, like an evolution?"

"What? No. That's preposterous," Jeanne shook her head. "There is no evolution of True Magic. But perhaps, a different application."

Shirou felt his head start to hurt. There was a reason he preferred to leave the more complex magical concepts to Rin. He could do it, he had a Reality Marble after all, but he had his limits.

Sieg returned a few moments later carrying a plastic grocery bag for Ruler. The Saint gratefully accepted the gift and the ones that went with it, her appetite likely outweighing her own selflessness. She soon after bid them both farewell and headed out.

"What were you and Ruler talking about?" the homunculus inquired.

"Nothing in particular," Shirou deflected. "More importantly, what's with this 'Mr. Emiya,' all of a sudden?"

"I just… thought it made sense. You're more knowledgeable about the world, and also my instructor. I feel that you are entitled to more respect than if I were to refer to you casually."

"Please, you really don't need to do that. Besides, I'm really not someone you should aspire to be. Unless you decide you want to open a restaurant," he added as an afterthought, chuckling at the idea. "Maybe."

Sieg cocked an eyebrow. "I don't understand. You seem to be an exemplary role model. You've survived a fire caused by the wish of something that was equatable with the devil, but you didn't let trauma define you. You have relationships with other people; earned the respect of a powerful mage, of King Arthur himse—"

"I must confess that due to some incredibly unfortunate experiences I had in life," Saber poked her head into the room, "my friendship can be bought with a two-course meal of adequate quality."

"That is merely another point in your favor," Sieg continued. "You proved that you were a proficient chef tonight at dinner. But you also have Ruler's respect in an even shorter period of time. You even possess a Reality Marble, the most powerful form of magecraft. I admit I am… new to judging another's character, but you seem to be a perfectly good person to emulate, extraordinary even. And, I… I don't even know how to be _ordinary_.

Shirou sheepishly scratched the back of his head. When it was all said out loud like that, he sounded like some sort of invincible protagonist from a Shonen manga, or maybe a visual novel, (he really wished Taiga hadn't left hers on his computer), with a beautiful girlfriend, unstoppable powers, and the respect of the mightiest of figures.

But he didn't feel like that. True, he had survived both the fires of hell and the Holy Grail War, but that was mostly through luck and the actions of others. Kiritsugu had saved him from the fire. Saber had protected him in the early stages of the war. Even his Reality Marble, a crowning achievement that would make the Clock Tower target him with a Sealing Designation, the inner world that allowed him to defeat The King of Heroes in single combat, he couldn't even activate without an outside prana boost. In the end, the only battle that Shirou had won purely on his own was his duel with Archer, his unyielding conviction forcing his future self to concede.

And he knew that same conviction was far from healthy. The fire broke him, forged him into a sword. He was hardly the best person to look up if one was trying to become a human. He didn't even try to cope with the tragedy and instead pushed his memories of his old life to the furthest corner of his mind. Sieg would be better suited looking up to Saber of Black…

Who'd torn out his own heart to save someone he didn't even know.

Alright, maybe Astolfo? He'd saved the young boy after all…

And was also loopier than a bendy straw and had somehow scribbled out his gender on the information Shirou had obtained from his weapon.

Rin…

No. Just no.

Why didn't he ever meet any sane people?

Oh, right, Saber was a good role model. Unless anything involving food came up, but that was better than everyone else he knew.

"Ordinary isn't really something you can learn by copying someone else," he said. He patted the young homunculus on the shoulder. "Don't worry so much about trying to get everything right away. You've got your whole life ahead of you to figure out who you want to be."

Sieg frowned. "I'm sorry. It's just that you all sacrificed so much to give me a chance at life. And I know that there were others of my kind who didn't get that chance who are still at Millenia Citadel. If I am the one to live, I don't want to waste it and dishonor any of you."

Shirou smiled at the boy. "You're not wasting anything by finding out who you are. That's what life is, learning what you like and don't like, what you want to do."

"What I want to do?" Sieg furrowed his brow. He stayed completely silent for several minutes before responding. "What do _you_ want to do?"

 _Create a world where no one has to cry._

"What I want is more of a thing to be reached for than a thing to achieve," Shirou answered. It wasn't even a lie. "Let's focus on what you like for now. Do you like cooking?"

Sieg's lips rose in a tinge of a smile. "I think I did. It was… pleasant, to make something with my own hands. When I was doing it, it was like there was a song in my heart. Is that… normal?"

Shirou grinned, barely suppressing a laugh at the homunculus' apparently unintentional expressiveness. "In my experience, yes."

He guided the young homunculus back towards the kitchen, his mind frantically calculating how many recipes he could entrust to the boy before they had to turn in for the night. He, Rin and Saber would be heading out for Bucharest in the morning, Serge's newspaper drawing their attention to a series of strange murders going on in the city. Murders eerily similar to those once performed by Jack the Ripper. And who would be a better fit for a rogue Assassin than an infamous serial killer?

It infuriated him that he wasn't able to do anything about this right now. His first impulse was to take off for the city at his first opportunity, but he knew that by the time he got there, he'd be far too late to save any potential victims.

That was a problem for the morning. For now, he had a disciple to instruct in his most sacred art. After all, if Sieg was going to live in the world, he was going to need to know how to make his own food.

The war could wait for one night.

* * *

 **FATEFATEFATEFATE**

Darnic stormed down into the bowels of Millennia Citadel, a crumpled newspaper rolled up in his hand. Another problem to add to the horde that seemed to be popping out of the woodwork recently. If Ruler discovered that they had lost control of their Assassin, she would not hesitate to impose sanctions on them for the innocent deaths that the Killer of Whitechapel had caused. And since Hyouma had failed to respond, the backwater fool was probably dead already, leaving the rest of them to clean up his mess. At least he could count on Fiore to retrieve their errant Servant of the Shadows. They could not risk eliminating their manpower, not with their other complication in play.

King Arthur, the strongest sword-wielding Servant.

This Shirou, a mage who had somehow managed to manifest a Reality Marble capable of replicating Noble Phantasms!

And somehow, they had both fallen under the command of a Tohsaka that shouldn't have existed. Fionn's information had been quite clear, and his Fintan Finegas didn't make mistakes: He had successfully eliminated every member of the founding families, even annihilating the Einzbern's stronghold in the North. He had burned Zouken Matou's manor to the ground and slain the Tohsaka Master with his own two hands. Darnic had made few mistakes in his lifetime, and he knew the Third Holy Grail War had not contained any. There was no way a member of the Founding Families could have survived in this world. All of these were irrevocable facts.

Which led him to recall their ancient teacher, the one who had guided them in the creation of the Holy Grail itself.

Part of him was flattered. If the Kaleidoscope himself had seen cause to stop him from reaching the Root, then his chances outside these new interlopers must have been better than he'd dared to imagine. The other part was absolutely livid that despite all his preparation, more obstacles kept appearing in his path. Not to mention that little girl was simply infuriating.

He had proposed having Lancer hunt them down as soon as they separated from Ruler, staking them all before they had the chance to act. But the King of Romania had been steadfast about honoring their agreement with the Blue Faction. He had suggested that, for now, they focus on checking each of the homunculi to see if any of them possessed the requisite magic circuits to act as the reactor core for Caster's Noble Phantasm.

Infuriating as Lancer's inaction was, it was not without logic. If Ruler ever discovered that they breached their accord, it would likely not end well. But if they waited a few days and allowed the Blue Faction to inevitably return, they stood to lose nothing, and indeed gained the advantage of the citadel's defenses.

But Darnic did not believe giving Rin Tohsaka time to plan would end well for anyone. Any student of the Second Magic would have to have a certain amount of craftiness. And if they made contact with Siegfried before they could figure out how to extract Avalon, the King of Knights would be far more difficult to deal with. But, to avoid Ruler's wrath, no Servant of Black could initiate battle with the Blue Faction.

Fortunately, that did leave them with one option.

The head of Yggdmilliennia charged into an enormous workshop, the ceilings higher than even the castle's ballroom. As far as the eye could see, ranks of massive golems stood at attention, smaller stone gremlins and Roche darting about among them, replacing limbs destroyed in the recent skirmish or simply testing potential upgrades. The man Darnic had come to see stood in front of them all, supervising.

"I received your message," said Caster. "What you're asking can be done, but there is an issue."

"What?" Darnic hissed. "Can you do it or not?"

"Not before the truce would end, at least not properly," Caster replied coolly, unfazed by Darnic's venom. "He is perhaps the most rebellious hero in the entire Throne. Recontracting him at all would be dangerous, but in such a short time frame, it would be a rushed job at best. We would break the Red Faction's hold, but at best, I would be able to aim him, like a wild bull released in a town. And given his Noble Phantasm and our energy reserves, said town would likely be annihilated along with whoever he was sent after."

Darnic hummed in thought. That would admittedly be somewhat problematic. The Holy Grail War was meant to be kept secret after all. And explaining why an entire town was suddenly gone would be… difficult. The Mage's Association would come down on anyone who dared flaunt magecraft so openly.

Then again, he had seceded from the Association. And if the entire town was wiped out, there would be no witnesses to potentially spread the word. Aside from which, the incident itself still wouldn't be large enough to warrant the attention of any higher intervention like the Counter Force.

Besides, eliminating the Blue Faction—and that wretched Tohsaka—would remove the greatest obstacle to his ascension to the Root. And as long as he succeeded, nothing else mattered. The rest of humanity could burn.

* * *

 **FATEFATEFATEFATE**

Shirou Kotomine smiled as he surveyed the Hanging Gardens of Babylon. The majestic terraces were not yet complete, but the sprawling range of stone stadiums, columns, and statues were already a massive complex grand enough to match even the mightiest of metropolises. Dancing across the multiplying rooftops was a menagerie of greenery, vines, fruits, and delicacies from all over the world, even places where the garden could not possibly have acquired plants from in their own time. Even if it was said that Semiramis did not actually build this wonder of the world, her recreation of its glory was truly sublime in its own right.

"Well," the woman herself inquired, slinking over his shoulder. "What do you think, Master?"

"Exquisite," said Shirou, offering a peaceful smile to her. "I can't wait to see what it will be like once you've completed them."

"Eager to annihilate our enemies, aren't you?" Assassin teased. "You have no need to worry. The Mage's Association has just sent the last of the necessary materials. It should arrive tomorrow and after that, it won't be long."

"I know. I checked in with them this morning," said Shirou. "They will also have an additional item for me; one of great importance."

"Oh, I was unaware the Mage's Association possessed anything you required."

"Under normal circumstances, they don't, at least, nothing that they would ever be willing to grant me. Even now, in the midst of Yggdmillennia's succession and every favor I've earned over these last sixty years, I've only been able to acquire a small piece of what I was after."

Semiramis cocked an eyebrow. "And that would be?"

"A peace offering."

"I see. For the Periwinkle Faction, I presume."

Shirou nodded. "Unlike the other masters, we have no need to actually defeat the opposing teams. Caster and I should be able to manipulate the Greater Grail to invoke Heaven's Feel without such a bloodbath. We will have to go through the Black Faction to acquire it, but our unexpected additions are another matter entirely. They may have been somewhat distressed by our assault on Ruler but if there is any chance we can still ally with them, then that would be for the best."

Semiramis frowned. The Empress of Assyria circled around and glared at him warily. "So you've acquired some means by which to pacify them."

"Not exactly. Though you needn't worry; even if they refuse the offer, it will still be useful to us, though I will need your assistance in preparing it."

"Right. I take it this means your brother confirmed the girl's story?"

Shirou frowned, a wave of profound grief surging through him. "No. I was unable to speak with him."

"What? Why would that be?"

"He attempted to commit suicide."

Semiramis' eyes widened for a moment. "Sui— Are you alright, master?"

"As alright as I have to be," Shirou declared, stone-faced. "We are in the middle of a war, after all."

"True." The empress glanced over her gardens, no longer even remotely surprised; death was hardly a stranger to her. Her narrowed eyes and almost imperceptible frown, however, betrayed her bemusement. "Still, I thought such actions were deeply frowned upon by those of your faith."

"It is. But Kirei has always been burdened with an anomaly that has… isolated him… from the rest of humanity. It was why I've kept my distance all this time," Shirou sighed. "I suppose it finally became too much for him."

"Apparently not enough to finish the job."

"He would have, but his daughter, my niece Caren, found him before the worst could occur. She was the one I spoke to."

Assassin smirked. "Good for the girl. And you, Master. Though, I don't suppose she was able to provide us with any useful information."

Shirou smiled. "Actually, she was. More than I'd expected even."

"Oh? So did your brother teach this so-called 'Tohsaka' girl or not?"

"Definitely not," Shirou confirmed. "While Kirei does possess magic circuits, Caren was able to confirm that he has never studied magecraft at all, let alone to the degree necessary to train a mage capable of supporting a Servant that could go toe to toe with Lancer."

"So, she is an imposter." Semiramis grinned, a serpent that had sighted its prey. "I was correct after all."

"Not necessarily," Shirou replied. He quickly found himself at the wrong end of an indignant glare. "I apologize for contradicting you so hastily. However, while the girl certainly did not learn from my brother, I did not feel any deception in the words of Shirou Emiya. And while I admit I am not immune to deception, Lancer _is_. If the Emiya boy had not been truthful when speaking the girl's name—"

"Then he's beyond delusional and merely believes her to be a Tohsaka." Semiramis snarked. "Master, dead is dead. I should know. And as you've made perfectly clear, the last Tohsaka in this world died a long time ago."

"I concur. There is little chance that this girl is a Tohsaka of _this_ world."

The look on Semiramis' face was one of complete stupefaction. It was almost endearing if he was to be perfectly honest with himself. However, she rectified this quickly, staring at him with an expression that displayed exactly how thoroughly unamused she was. "You can't be serious."

"Why not? This is a Holy Grail War. We're all already fighting over one True Magic."

"Yes, but even with that, this conflict is hardly severe enough to draw the Kaleidoscope's attention. Why would he intervene?"

Shirou shrugged. "Who can say why Zelretch does anything? He has always been close with the Tohsaka bloodline. Perhaps he wanted to give the girl a chance to avenge her kin in this timeline."

"That seems even less likely."

"True," Shirou admitted. "Nevertheless, the more important aspect of this possibility is that we gain a greater understanding of our new foes. Something that our allies have been able to help with."

"Shishigou?" Semiramis asked. "I thought he and his pet knight were heading to Bucharest. That is where you sent Archer to reinforce them, isn't it?"

"Indeed," Shirou nodded. With all the unexpected upheaval that had occurred recently, he'd thought it unwise to allow their allies to seek out a killer of the Mage's Association forces alone. "But when I called them in order to inform them of my theory, our necromancer had quite a bit to spill about our mysterious Master's emissary."

Shirou Emiya. He was kicking himself for not recognizing the boy's last name. Even if he was trained by the Mage Killer of a different world, the scion of Kiritsugu Emiya was sure to be a dangerous foe.

Which made it all the more perplexing that Shirou had not sensed any malicious intent from him during their discussion. Yes, the boy had prepared to defend himself when the priest had readied his black keys, but that was a natural response. Other than that, the boy had been the perfect guest, courteous, reasonable, and even concerned for the wellbeing of the innocents of the war, a trait proven to be genuine when he had helped defend Ruler during Lancer's attack.

But looking back on that meeting, and having had his thoughts drawn to Kirei so recently, he noticed something he had missed before:

Shirou Emiya felt like his brother.

It wasn't the same. Not exactly. Their anomalies weren't even remotely of the same nature, but they both had them. They were both warped so drastically that they could never change on their own, even if they tried.

And while normally quite tragic, it could prove beneficial to the priest in this scenario. If Shirou Emiya was not warped in the same way as Kirei, perhaps he would be more aware of his affliction and be more amenable to potentially curing himself as a component of humanity's salvation. Perhaps Shirou could succeed here where he'd failed to assist his brother.

As soon as he had the opportunity, he would offer to form an alliance with the third faction. If they were hesitant, he'd reveal his gift. With any luck, they could join together to see their wishes granted. And if they couldn't see eye to eye, then he would simply have to achieve his goals without them. Preferably without killing them, so that when humanity was saved, they would share in the glorious deliverance.

But, if worst came to worst, he would allow nothing to stand in his way. Not the past, nor an alternate present.

* * *

 **A huge thank you to my patrons: Gregg Tracton, Keith Traction and Cool guy.**

 **Thank you for Reading! I hope you enjoy what comes next!**

 **Go Forth and Conquer!**


	10. Chapter 9

**The chapter of November... on December 5th... Gosh dang it to heck.**

 **Again, apologies. Though the writing of this chapter's first draft went faster than the last, it also required a lot of revision after it came out incredibly short. Then it was far too long and had to be cut down and then real life hit Draconic and... yeah.**

 **Beta-ed by Draconic**

* * *

 _Sieg glanced about the hazy cavern, his scarlet eyes wide with terror. "Where… Where am I?"_

 _He'd only just laid down to sleep for the night, comfortable in the bed Serge had provided for him, warmed by the thought that he was, at last, truly free. Part of him could scarcely believe that his fate was now his own, that he even had a fate to begin with; a purpose greater than to be used up as a disposable battery. Once the Blue Faction moved on to Bucharest in the morning, his brief but frightening role in the Great Holy Grail War would come to an end._

 _And yet, part of him couldn't help but find that conclusion… unsatisfying._

 _He was thrilled to no longer have to fear Yggdmillennia, but the people he had met over the course of his short adventure were nothing short of incredible._

 _The Paladin of Charlemagne who'd saved him, granting the wish of a manufactured being who hadn't even completely understood what he'd asked._

 _The Hero of the Nibelungenlied, who'd been willing to give up everything to save a mindless soul._

 _The Maid of Orleans, who shielded him from the war and ensured his freedom._

 _And the Blue Faction._

 _Most specifically, Mr. Emiya; Shirou._

 _As much as Sieg wanted to start a new life, whatever that would be, or if he could even figure out what he wanted it to be, all the most incredible things he had encountered, the closest examples of 'good' that he had, had stemmed from that conflict. Without it, he really had no frame of reference of how to behave in 'normal' life._

 _Of course, none of that explained why he was standing in the middle of a massive, smoke-filled cavern, jagged black rock surrounding him on all sides. Ahead of him, a sword, far too large for him to lift, was struck upright in the floor. As far as he was aware, falling asleep did not lead to sudden appearances in mysterious caves._

 _Wait… could this have been what people called a 'dream?'_

 _He wiped the sweat beading from his brow before it could drip into his eyes. And therein lay the first hole in his initial conclusion: The cave was absolutely sweltering, and though he knew very little, he somehow felt certain that one wouldn't feel temperature in a dream. The second and greater strike against the dream theory was that he was completely lucid. And that was something he knew about. Certain mages practiced for years to achieve lucid dreaming. It was highly unlikely that he would do it with no experience whatsoever._

 _So, this wasn't a dream. Was it?_

 _He just didn't know._

 _His gaze wandered to the only other thing in the cave, the greatsword embedded in the ground, already half his height, even with most of its length buried in the earth. The black wall behind it seemed somewhat different from the rest of the cavern, its darkness almost sleeker. A flickering light danced upon it, producing the illusion of movement._

 _But all his eyes could see was the sword. His mind screamed that he'd seen it before, but he just couldn't recall where. It was said that one's cognizance was often impaired in dreams, so that was one point for that possibility._

 _So was it a dream, or wasn't it? He wished he knew._

 _Before he realized what he was doing, his hand was already reaching for the blade. He blinked, and his fingers were suddenly wrapped around the hilt. For a moment, nothing seemed to happen. Then…_

 _"Well, this is most unusual."_

 _Sieg whipped around, his hand frozen on the sword hilt and his eyes wide with shock. He knew that voice, soft yet solemn. But how could he be here?_

 _Saber of Black, Sir Siegfried, stood before him, the noble knight's head cocked to the side in confusion._

 _Despite that, the dragonslayer smiled. "Hello little one."_

 _"Hello, Sir Siegfried," Sieg replied. He tried to turn fully towards the man who had given him a heart, show him the respect he'd more than earned, but he found he could not remove his hand from the blade he'd grasped. Strangely, this didn't worry him as much as his logical mind told him it should. His Black Command Seals gave off a soft light blue glow._

 _"Balmung," Siegfried noted. He looked past Sieg, his steely eyes narrowing. "I see we're back here."_

 _"Back where?" Sieg asked fretfully. "I've never seen this place before. Have you?"_

 _"It is a place from my memory, a pivotal chapter in my life," the knight explained. "As for why either of us is here, I cannot say for certain. Though it undoubtedly has to do with the heart that beats within both our chests."_

 _"I… suppose so," Sieg answered. Though he was as uncertain of that as anything else, he trusted Siegfried. He glanced back at his Black Seals. "Mr. Emiy—Shirou mentioned encountering a Heroic Spirit he was linked to in his dreams, though he said that one has not been summoned to this war. Perhaps this is something similar?"_

 _"That is certainly possible. If Shirou Emiya communed with a Heroic Spirit in some plane between this realm and the Throne of Heroes, it likely that my presence connected us, instead of allowing you to speak with the Siegfried in Akasha. By entering this place, you summoned my mind here."_

 _"Oh," Sieg said. "I'm sorry. I hope I didn't pull you away from anything important."_

 _Siegfried reassured him with a kind smile. "Do not concern yourself over such details, little one. Since the events in the forest, I have been confined to a cell in the citadel's dungeons, along with Rider. The most you did was remove me from the range of his singing."_

 _Sieg cringed. "Was he… really that bad?"_

 _"Oh, not at all," Siegfried assured him. "Nobles of his time often had training in the arts and while I wouldn't say he is a natural talent, he is far from unskilled. He has taken to the modern songs the Grail implanted in his mind with extreme gusto. Rider is a man of many talents. More than any of us were expecting to be truly honest."_

 _"Huh." That was surprising. As much as Sieg admired Rider of Black for saving him, he never would have pegged the paladin as musically gifted._

 _Of course, then the rest of Saber's words registered with the young homunculus. He looked away from the knight in shame. "I'm sorry you two have gotten into so much trouble on my account."_

 _Siegfried stepped forward and placed a reassuring hand on the boy's shoulder. "You have nothing to apologize for. Rider and I both made our decisions of our own volition. We knew the consequences."_

 _"But you still wouldn't have had to suffer them if it weren't for me," Sieg noted._

 _"It is a price well worth paying. Rider and I both believe so."_

 _Sieg gathered what courage he could and looked the knight in the eye, a vivid blue as clear as a cloudless sky. The homunculus couldn't help but note the distinct contrast with his own red irises. It was barely the tip of the iceberg when it came to differences between them. His benefactor was a mythical knight, a hero of the highest order. A man who was willing to give his life for anyone who needed saving. Meanwhile, he didn't even have the first clue what to do with his life._

 _"If I may ask, how do you fare?"_

 _The young homunculus' mind froze as soon as the question left Siegfried's mouth. "Wha—What do you mean?"_

 _"Rider was worried about you after your departure," Siegfried explained. "And truthfully, I am quite curious to know how things are going for you myself. Where are you now? Who are you with? And what are your plans moving forward?"_

 _"Um… well, a kind elderly man named Serge agreed to shelter our group for the night. And me for the long term. Ruler left earlier in the evening to speak with the Red Faction," Sieg began hesitantly. "The Blue Faction plans to head out come morning, though with any luck I'll be able to speak with Shirou before he leaves. I'd hoped to speak with him some more about cooking."_

 _"Shirou… he is the mage with the Reality Marble, correct?" At Sieg's nod, Siegfried grinned. "And he is a cook. Perhaps this will put Rider's mind at ease."_

 _Sieg cocked an eyebrow. "What?"_

 _"Oh, Rider was concerned you would attempt to emulate Shirou."_

 _"Really?" Sieg frowned. "He expressed concern about that as well. For some reason, he advised me not to look up to him. He wants me to find my own path."_

 _"Then he is as wise as I thought. Rider will be pleased." Siegfried said._

 _"Yes," Sieg concurred. "But, I'm not sure how to find my own path. I know I'm supposed to find out what I like and don't like, but… beyond that…"_

 _"There does not need to be anything beyond that," Siegfried advised. "There are those who choose to strive for some great ambition and there are those who simply choose to enjoy life as it comes to them. Neither is wrong. What matters is that you choose. Take it from me: I spent my entire life letting others decide for me, and though it was a good life, it was a life incomplete."_

 _"What I enjoy…" Shirou had said the same thing._

 _Sieg hadn't tried to do very much in his short existence. And with how vast he knew the world to be, there were sure to be more activities than he could ever hope to experience, even with his extended lifespan. Already he had gained an appreciation for cooking and he hoped to have the opportunity to try out all the recipes that Shirou had left him. Despite all his confusion, there was a flutter in his heart, and eagerness to go forward and find… whatever it was that he'd find. He may not have known what choice he should make yet, but he was excited to make it._

 _But… there was something holding him back. Memories of his time at Millenia Citadel. And more importantly, the knowledge that scores, perhaps hundreds of homunculi just like him, his kin, or the closest he had to kin, were still experiencing those same trials. Pawns in a war they were made to fight for, to die for, either thrown against Servants as cannon fodder or drained dry as batteries._

 _"I have to return to Millenia Citadel," he declared._

 _Siegfried raised an eyebrow. "That… may not be a wise decision. Lady Celenike would be quite… aggravated if you returned."_

 _"That doesn't matter," Sieg's eyes hardened with resolve. "The other homunculi, they're going through the same things I did. That I would be going through if I hadn't been exceptionally lucky. Perhaps there is no shame in moving forward despite their suffering, perhaps I don't owe them anything. But if they're just like me, then they deserve the same chance to choose their fates for themselves."_

 _Siegfried tilted his head to the side. "So you are saying you cannot move forward until they are free?"_

 _"No. I'm saying I refuse to."_

 _The dragonslayer smiled at the young boy. "Very well. So long as it is your choice, it is a worthy one. Though I warn you, if you rejoin the war of your own volition, Ruler will not be able to protect you. I myself may have to take action against you with all my strength, and even if I did not, the Yggdmilliennia's power is not insignificant. If you seek your goal as you are, helpless and without allies, you will fail."_

 _Sieg scowled. His savior spoke the truth. He hadn't even been able to defeat Gordes as he was, and even if his constitution had improved, he was hardly a match for a Servant, let alone six of them. If he was going to free his fellows, he needed more than just bluster._

 _He could ask the Blue Faction for help. Once the ceasefire was over, he suspected Lady Tohsaka would be eager for the chance to weaken the Black Faction before their inevitable clash with the Red Faction. With their help, he had no doubt he'd be able to get into the castle to help his kin._

 _But that wasn't enough. He couldn't keep relying on others to save him. He needed something that would let him stand on an even playing field with the other forces at play, he needed some way to increase his strength… he needed…_

 _He needed_ _ **power**_ _._

 _His eyes darted to his Black Command Seals, the hand they resided on still glued to the sword._

 _Shirou had mentioned they were powerful. Dead Count Shapeshifter Seals. He didn't know how they worked, but if they could give him strength…_

 _"These seals… they require some sort of aria," Sieg said thoughtfully. He glanced back to his savior. "Do you have any idea what it could be?"_

 _Siegfried shrugged. "They are still Command Seals, are they not? Perhaps you merely need to give an order."_

 _"An order to do what? I don't have a Servant, and I don't know what they're supposed to do otherwise."_

 _The dragonslayer frowned, his brow furrowed in thought. His eyes flickered behind Sieg, his gentle gaze suddenly ice cold._

 _"What's wrong?" the homunculus inquired. He followed the hero's eyes to the strange black wall and his heart stopped._

 _He had been mistaken. There was no wall behind him. The wall behind the sword, the one whose movement he'd attributed to the apparent firelight, had actually been moving. And he knew this because it had risen up several meters and opened a pair of massive obsidian eyes. An enormous jaw cracked open beneath its gaze, a bright, wicked flame stoking like the heartbeat of a fireplace. Even if he was only a few days old, Sieg could never imagine anyone mistaking the beast before him for anything but a dragon._

 _"This place is my memory," Siegfried narrated, his voice steady and commanding, like a general on the march. "It was here that I faced the evil dragon Fafnir. It was here where I pushed myself beyond what should have been possible and passed into legend. It was here that I became a hero."_

 _"Then why is it here now?" Sieg panicked, his legs trembling beneath him yet unable to free himself from the embedded blade and flee. "If this is the memory of you killing it, why is it alive? Why do_ _ **I**_ _have_ _ **your**_ _sword?"_

 _"Because killing Fafnir was only half the battle," Siegfried declared. "Facing him, the pinnacle of phantasmal beasts, a creature that a mere human should have had absolutely no chance of even wounding, let alone slaying; that is what earned me my power, my legend. And now, if you so choose, it may give you something of the same."_

 _"Something of the same? What?"_

 _"If you are to charge into the Great Holy Grail War, you will face things far more terrifying than a memory. This is your final chance to turn back, to choose safety. You have not declared that you will flee, nor have you stated that you will fight this beast."_

 _Sieg shivered despite the cavern's growing heat, Fafnir's flame growing with each passing second. "What do you mean?"_

 _"You want to give an order? Give it to yourself. You are both general and soldier. You are the only one who can determine your path, one way or another. What is your true wish?"_

 _"I don't know!"_

 _His confession rang across the cave like the toll of a funeral bell. Fafnir rose from his prone form and let out an ungodly bellow, an inferno erupting from his throat._

 _It didn't matter._

 _Sieg was confused. His identity, his hopes, whatever dream he might have had was murky and unclear. But the dragons would come whether or not he knew who he was or wanted to be. They would come, and they would burn everything around him._

 _So even if he lacked the power to slay them, he would show them steel nonetheless._

 _He added his opposite hand to the sword hilt and pulled, feeling every ounce of the blade's immense weight as it rose out of its earthen prison; a weight he couldn't possibly lift. And yet it obeyed his will. The entire length of the blade emerged from the ground as the dragon before him stood up and bellowed a challenge. And beneath Fafnir's roar, an aria flashed through Sieg's mind._

 _"I order this body…!"_

 _Siegfried smiled._

* * *

 _ **FATEFATEFATEFATE**_

Saber and Shirou had both woken up at about the same time, just before sunrise. While he packed their few belongings, she took on the ever-difficult task of waking Rin up, both of them taking care not to wake Sieg or their host. After getting pawed a few times, she finally got Rin to open her eyes and realize just who she was blindly swinging her arm at. There was little else to be said of that though. Nothing that Rin would want her to give any undue attention to, at least. They left the house quietly, shutting the door behind them with a soft click.

She looked at the grim expression on Shirou's face and immediately knew what he was thinking. Off on the other side of the country, beyond the Wallachian hills, Assassin of Black was no doubt going into hiding for the day after a busy, bloody night. But it wouldn't have another. The foul Servant would be receiving an unwelcome surprise come sunset.

They didn't speak very much on the way to Bucharest. The silence was peaceful one, and Saber found herself trying to avoid pushing the engine, keeping it steady at a low rumble. Shirou opted to ride behind her while Rin chose to nap in the sidecar, though it seemed that she was at least paying attention to their surroundings; she opened her eyes periodically to have a look around in the pale early-morning light.

Having gotten an early start, they made good time, reaching Brașov just as the sun began to creep over the Carpathians. They watched the city as it woke up, lighted windows going dark as the morning sun made them unnecessary. The road began to see more cars, the sounds of the city waking Rin, and Saber decided that there was no longer any sense in trying to preserve the peaceful atmosphere. They were all awake, and the workday had started for most people, so she picked up speed, letting her steed roar. They still had a ways to go before reaching their destination.

Overall, it was a long four hours.

As the city came into view, Saber gradually let her motorcycle decelerate, letting the vehicle coast into Bucharest. She looked up to find the sun hadn't yet reached its highest point in the sky.

Assassin hadn't a prayer. It would never escape this city. Bucharest would be its tomb. They had a whole day to prepare.

They _should have_ had a whole day to prepare.

Saber went rigid.

"Damn it all!" she cursed herself for noticing too late. She had no time to change direction, and no streets to turn onto. All she could do was race by the café where sat a bearded man in sunglasses, a sister, and a blonde girl in a red jacket and a white tube-top.

* * *

 _ **FATEFATEFATEFATE**_

' _Saber…'_

"No."

' _Saber…'_

"I refuse to suffer this. It's an insult to my honor as a knight."

 _'No one's saying you wouldn't be able to handle this on your own. But if she's here, we might as well put her to use.'_

"I don't need some whiny bowman who only knows how to attack an enemy too far away to fight back looking out for me. I will find the enemy and destroy them myself, up close and in person. When I cut them down, I'll be looking them in the eye, as befits a knight."

 _'Right. And you're sure this doesn't have anything to do with her not letting you touch her ears?'_

"…"

' _Saber?'_

"They're fluffy, and I wanted to pet them," she grumbled sullenly. She abruptly raised her head and shouted, "I pet _lots_ of cats, what makes _her_ so different?!"

"As fascinating as it is listening to only one side of a conversation," Archer of Red growled, "I can't help but wonder if you don't realize the simple fact that telepathy is a useless method of communication if you exclude the rest of your allies."

Something feral glinted in her eye.

"And, surprisingly enough, I am not your pet kitten. And before you so much as consider trying that again, I assure you that I don't _need_ to cooperate with you."

Kairi sighed, Mordred's perpetual, impudent glare, though aimed at the other Servant, was already giving him another headache. Between the unsettling dreams he'd been having of his Saber's past and her less than stellar rapport with their reinforcements, these headaches were becoming a more common occurrence than the mercenary was comfortable with. Honestly, if he'd known that telling the priest about Emiya's history would lead to this, he would have kept his damn trap shut. All it took was Saber trying to pet the woman's lion ears once and the two had declared passive aggressive war on each other.

Well, mostly just aggressive on Mordred's part.

Still, it wasn't as if the backup wasn't appreciated. Even putting aside the town's close proximity to the Yggdmillennia's base at Trifas and the unknown movements of the third faction—Periwinkle, according to Assassin—she'd cut her Master off mid-sentence just to tell him what they were called before he did… crazy witch—whatever they were dealing with was undoubtedly dangerous. Before the arrival of the Association's forces, the killer's only targets had been thugs and gang members, but afterwards, experienced Enforcers began dropping like flies, chopped into bits with their hearts gouged out. They were dealing with a soul eater, beyond a shadow of a doubt, and given the war, it was more than likely a Servant. And while he had complete faith in Mordred's abilities, having Archer with them simply gave them more options. And more options meant there were more ways for them to not die to some sudden reversal of fortune, such as an unusual Noble Phantasm.

Not that the Knight of Treachery cared too much. It seemed as though the only thing she could be bothered to concern herself with was that all the stray cats she'd wanted to play with had been flocking to the Servant of the Bow since her arrival, and it was pissing her off!

Archer would have remained in spirit form, but without a Master-Servant link, she would be unable to participate in any discussions between the other two people she was trying to assist. Not that she couldn't talk while astralized, it was just that doing so would draw as much attention to the people she was with as going for a walk in her usual attire would have. Of course, being physically present wouldn't have been an issue with most Heroic Spirits, but most of them didn't have lion ears sticking out of their hair, to say nothing of her tail. That could not be shown in public under any circumstances.

However, Kairi had barely shoveled out the money for Mordred's wardrobe, he certainly wasn't going to do it for someone else's Servant. Fortunately, Shirou Kotomine had foreseen such a complication and gifted her an outfit. Unfortunately, a man of the church hadn't had much in the way of feminine clothing.

Thus, the trio of two street toughs and a nun came to sit outside a humble but pleasant café, the soft Romanian sunlight not quite reaching them where they sat in the shade of a table umbrella.

A small empty breakfast plate stared up at Kairi, and a notably larger one sat in front of Mordred, still piled high with sausages, though that pile was shrinking quickly. The necromancer had been against paying for the massive meal, but food was one of the few matters he couldn't reach much of a compromise on with his Servant. He could talk her down to the less pricy menu items, but she still demanded a mountain to devour. The first time, he'd been sure her eyes would prove to have been bigger than her stomach. He was painfully disabused of this notion after ten minutes and steadily disappearing orders of cold cuts and cucumbers. The girl could pack it away like a monster. There had been a mountain of pastrami and feta cheese when her orders got to the table and not only had she turned it into a molehill, she was swiftly annihilating the remains.

Archer on the other hand had declined to let him purchase anything for her, citing the known fact that Heroic Spirits did not actually need to eat. Nevertheless, she had pulled out a paper bag containing a delicious looking loaf of bread and a bright red apple, the latter eliciting an actual smile, to both Saber's surprise and that of her Master.

Mordred glared at their ally. "It's none of your business, Archer."

"You were scowling at me the entire time."

"Well, maybe I just don't like your face!"

Archer sighed. "What are you? A child?" she snatched up her apple and took a large bite out of the fruit, wiping a trickle of juice away with her sleeve.

Mordred snarled. "I am a knight _for your information_ , you stuck up, self-important coward, so you can shove your condescending attitude up your—"

"Young lady! Do not speak to a sister like that!"

All three Red Faction members turned to find their waitress scowling at Mordred. The Knight of Treachery's ire shifted to the woman, but it stalled somewhat when she caught sight of her dessert. Well, in retrospect, she had ordered eight slices of cheesecake, so seeing the whole cake from behind the counter being brought to the table shouldn't have been _that_ surprising. In addition to still firmly upholding her vow of chivalry and respecting civilians, the child of King Arthur was also not particularly keen on offending the people who were bringing her food.

"But… but, she's not really a—" she stammered helplessly.

"It's no trouble, I assure you," Archer interjected. Her sharp eyes were not unkind to the young woman, but there was little patience for the disruption of their meeting. "This is a simple case of miscommunication. Nothing serious, I assure you."

"Oh," the waitress replied. The woman cringed instantly, embarrassment covering her cheeks. "I am so sorry. I mean, you're eating together, so of course you know each other. It really wasn't my place—"

"You meant no harm," Archer cut her off, her words just a bit colder. "You have no need to apologize. But if you wouldn't mind, this is a private discussion. My apologies, but please, leave us."

"Right, sorry," the waitress set down the cake, Mordred's eyes lighting up as soon as it hit the table. The woman's focus remained on Archer however. "It's just… the church has helped my family so much. My son wouldn't even be able to go to school if they hadn't helped us—"

"Your… son?" Archer interrupted, her hunter's eyes softening a great deal.

The waitress brightened up. "Yes, my Eduard just turned nine and… and I'm still here. I'm so sorry, ma'am. You said not to bother you and—"

"N-No, it's fine," Archer assured her. She returned her loaf of bread to her paper bag and handed it to the woman. "Here. For your son."

"What? Miss, I can't accept—"

"Please. I insist."

The waitress stammered for a moment, but accepted the gift after some urging. She turned to Kairi. "Is everything else okay for now, sir?"

"Yeah, we're fine here," he assured her, then added, "…and we'll take the check."

The waitress nodded and bustled back inside.

Kairi sighed at Archer, who smiled at the departing woman. "That was a pretty marked change in attitude. What happened?"

"Nothing you need to concern yourself with," she responded evasively.

"I'm not tipping her. We're short enough on funds as it is."

The cat-woman scowled at him, shifting her habit into better alignment as one of her ears began to twitch. "That is your decision to make. But you really should help her provide for her child."

"Should. But won't."

He empathized with any single parent; he'd been one himself after all. But he only had so much cash. And with Mordred's appetite, he'd need all the funds he could scrounge together. "If you hadn't noticed, I'm kind of providing for a kid of my own night now."

"Hmm?" Mordred grunted, an entire slice of cake balanced precariously on a fork and being stuffed into her mouth in a goofy demonstration of chipmunk-like cheek flexibility. "You say something?"

"Nothing important."

Mordred shrugged, turning back to Archer.

"Where'd you get that bread anyway?" Mordred asked, changing the subject through a mouthful of pastry. "Smelled pretty good."

Archer shrugged. "Lancer gave it to me. Unless I'm mistaken, he did a number of favors for a few locals back in Sighisoara and they gave it to him as thanks. He in turn gave it to me."

Kairi cocked an eyebrow. "We're in the middle of a Holy Grail War, and he's going around playing the altruist?"

"I imagine he was more subtle about it, but essentially yes," Archer admitted. "I must admit, when I was summoned, I had dreaded being forced into an alliance. My past experiences with such coalitions have been… mixed… to say the least. And heroes are not known for working well together."

"Why do you sound like you're speaking from experience?" Mordred smirked, taking a break from her cheesecake.

"That said, this Red Faction is… tolerable." Archer continued with an irritated glare at the knight. "Save Caster and Berserker, all the others' faults have been offset by equal competence."

"I thought we didn't have a Berserker anymore," said Mordred.

"You'd be correct. My personal opinion is that we're better off for it." She glared at both Kairi and Mordred. "I can only hope that the two of you continue this trend."

Kairi shrugged. "Sure. We'll do our best."

Archer huffed.

"I suppose we'll see. But if it helps…" she grumbled, "…I suppose I could endeavor to be less… confrontational."

Mordred swallowed the food in her mouth. "So, does that mean I can touch your—"

"No."

" _Damn it!_ "

Mordred leaned back in her seat in a huff and stuffed another slice of cake down her throat.

Archer turned to Kairi. "So, what did you learn from your investigation at the morgue?"

Kairi pulled out a newspaper from his coat. He unfurled it over the table. "I convinced one of the coroners to let me examine the corpses. Based on the wounds I noticed, some of the victims probably tried to fight back, but for the most part, they were chopped into pieces with their hearts gouged out."

"So, we're dealing with—" Archer began, only for Mordred to interrupt.

"Why the heart?"

"Well, for Servants, the heart is the location of their spirit core. And for humans, it's the source of life. So, if I had to take a guess, whoever did it ate them to gain mana."

"Well that's pretty disgusting," Mordred groaned.

"That's not all. The headline isn't just for show." Kairi explained. "They all bear striking similarities to the original Jack the Ripper murders. Specifically, the causes of death match those of the so-called 'canon' Ripper victims as well; asphyxiation followed by a deep laceration to the throat. Almost like an incomplete decapitation, with the murder weapon probably a knife of some sort, though not all of the wounds matched. It was gruesome sight."

"So it's a Servant. Hmm… if they had only gone after the mages it could have been excused as simple warfare," Archer mused. "But these thugs… killing those uninvolved with the war is pointless, even detrimental if Ruler were to discover the murders. Combine that bit of evidence with the missing hearts, and as I was saying before your Servant interrupted me, it's not a stretch to determine that we're dealing with a soul eater. Assassin is killing these people for magical energy. Which means…"

"They've gone rogue," Kairi finished. He sighed and adjusted his sunglasses to sit higher up on his face. "How long do you think we have until they show up to deal with their deserter?"

"Considering the penalties they could suffer if Ruler finds out?" said Archer, "Tonight, no later. They may even be in the city already and are just waiting for Assassin to show itself."

"Wonderful. Well, maybe we'll get lucky and it'll take out a Black Master before it takes the bait and comes after me," Shishigou muttered. "Then again, we can't exactly say for certain that they don't hold any allegiance to the other Masters of Black. This isn't exactly Yggdmillennia territory, and all the mage victims so far have been from the Association, so we probably shouldn't count on it being alone."

"A fair point," Archer said. "In any case, we'll have to make do with just us. Lancer would never even consider using his full power in such a populated area, and Rider would enormously vulnerable if this Assassin discovered his weakness."

"That's fine. Not like we've been getting much help until now anyway," Mordred noted, jamming another slice of cake into her mouth and starting to chew. Strangely, she didn't follow her prideful set up by boasting about how she would have been more than enough to deal with Assassin on her own. That alone got Kairi's attention, and when he turned to her, the Knight of Treachery had a pensive scowl painted across her face.

"Hey, Archer?" she asked. "The priest mentioned that our Lancer and Rider are both heroes of the highest order. Is that true?"

Archer blinked in confusion. "Well… yes, they are. Though Rider can be juvenile at times, I confess I've seen few who can equal him in combat."

"Juvenile, not him then. What about Lancer? Does he… by any chance… does he look like me?"

"Um… no. Nothing at all," Archer replied, looking just a little unsettled. "Saber, are you alright?"

Mordred scowled. "I'm fine. Don't worry about me."

' _You thinking they might have been your old man?'_

"No! Shut up! I just wanted to check to see if I could figure out who our allies are, nothing else."

' _Right.'_

Kairi shook his head. Even after seeing those memories, he couldn't tell whether his Servant actually wanted to run into her father in the Holy Grail War or not. On the one hand, she seemed to have a lot she wanted to work out with the guy (girl? Why couldn't Servants ever be as simple as the history books said they were?). But on the other hand, he couldn't imagine reuniting with the person whose kingdom you destroyed and who later impaled you on a gigantic lance to be something one would look forward to, even someone as crazy as Mordred.

Still, one way or another, putting her mind at ease could only help their chances in the war.

"What about the Servants of Black?" he asked Archer. "Other than Assassin, you saw them all when Berserker got captured, right?"

"Most of them." The lion woman confirmed. "My counterpart kept his distance, though he was incredibly skilled, enough to put pressure on Rider, even."

"Bah! Even if he'd annihilated Rider, that couldn't possibly be father. He'd never cower from an enemy from range like that. That was what we had Tristan's pansy ass for. 'How sad!' _Every_! _Other_! _Minute_!" She punctuated each word by slamming a fist on the table, getting a few stares from other patrons sitting on the patio, then scratched her head violently with both hands. "UGH! Just thinking about that loon gets me worked up! He says the King doesn't understand his subjects. All well and good, he's kinda right, but out of all the knights, he is the _last_ person to talk!"

Kairi ignored that comment. Obviously one of the other Knights of the Round Table. It seemed that the more he learned, the weirder they got. He merely nodded for their ally to continue. "What did the rest of them look like?"

"Other than the dragonslayer and the vampire guy," Mordred added.

Archer rolled her eyes. "Very well. Their Caster seemed to have encased himself in golden armor with a faceless mask, and he wore purple robes over it."

"Father was no mage. And he'd never wear something as tacky as purple."

"Their Berserker was some strange combination of flesh and machinery. She, or perhaps it, was dressed as some sort of bride and wielded a large electrical mace, though she actually looked like she had some difficulty carrying it."

"Father was far too composed to ever be summoned as a Berserker. And he was never a bride."

' _Yeah. I suppose hiding his gender would—'_

"Master," Mordred growled.

' _Right. Sorry.'_

"And as for their Rider…" Archer's eyes scrunched in confusion. "I apologize, but I honestly couldn't tell if their Rider was man or a woman."

"…Could that have been?"

"Whoever they were, they had long pink hair and an insufferable personality. We may have to kill them first before the others."

The brief flash of hope in Mordred's eyes vanished, replaced by a disgruntled squint. She snarled and stuffed another cake slice into her mouth.

Archer turned to Kairi. "Should I assume my information was unhelpful?"

The necromancer shook his head. "No, it's fine. Just…" he shook his head. "It's complicated."

"It often is with heroes. Let us hope our hunt for Assassin is less so."

Kairi firmly agreed with that sentiment. But as assuredly as he knew Mordred would be soon be hounding him for more cake or maybe one of those fruit pastries from behind the counter, he knew that it had absolutely no chance of coming to pass.

A swift breeze passed by them as someone decided to ignore the speed limit.

And then Mordred did something he'd _never_ seen her do before.

A half-eaten slice of cake fell from her hand, hitting the sidewalk with a near-inaudible splat. He looked up at her face, finding a dumbstruck expression etched onto her face.

"Saber…?" he asked, "You okay th—"

Before he could even finish, Mordred threw herself out of her chair, practically sending it skidding across the patio as she jumped over the fence and took off at a sprint.

"Sorry, Master, I'll be right back, I swear!" she shouted over her shoulder.

"Saber!" he called after, shooting to his feet.

He could ignore the strange stares his Servant was getting and the look on Archer's face that clearly read 'I give up.' What concerned him was the unprecedented tone of complete blatant uncertainty in Mordred's voice. She sounded _panicked_.

Wait a minute…

"Shit…" he grumbled, noticing the waitress coming back with the bill, and hurriedly producing a credit card.

He hoped this wasn't what he thought it was.

* * *

 _ **FATEFATEFATEFATE**_

It couldn't be.

It couldn't be!

It was _beyond_ improbable.

But who else could it have been?

Mordred dashed after the speeding motorcycle as fast as she could, which wasn't nearly fast enough. The longer the chase continued, the further and further away the mechanical contraption got, mixing in with the city's rush hour traffic.

Not that the driver seemed to notice. Whoever was at the wheel of the silver vehicle charged through the maze of cars like they were riding a horse through an open field, deftly maneuvering through traffic like a dancer's recital. If their unnatural speed didn't give away that there was a Servant involved, the impossiblely nimble steering certainly made a compelling case. All too soon, that faint point of light that dimly called to her in her mind began to fall out of her reach.

Damn it all! Even if she could use her full speed, the motorcycle was still moving too quickly, and she couldn't even do that because it was broad daylight and she was surrounded by stupid witnesses!

Finally, the vehicle got too far out of her range, or whoever was on the bike somehow smothered their _prana_ signature, or something. Whatever happened, the pinprick of recognition faded from the back of Mordred's mind, once more leaving her with only her memories.

The Knight of Treachery seethed, every inch of her body churning with fury. Knowing she couldn't fully express herself while surrounded by bystanders, she marched down a dark back alley. Once there, she promptly howled to the sky and punched a fist through a wall. The brick exploded into powder as crimson lightning sparked off her arm.

"Holy shit!"

Her eyebrow twitched. The world just didn't seem to want to cut her a break.

She turned around and took stock of the idiot who'd gasped at her display. He was shabby, unwashed, covered in filthy, torn clothes and was squatting in a cardboard box. A near empty beer bottle had clattered at his feet.

In short, a peasant. One that she was in absolutely no mood to deal with. But since the only other option would be to kill the guy, and she didn't particularly enjoy the thought of doing that, wasn't his fault the coward on the bike had pissed her off, she decided to see if she could finally get some use out of being forced to watch Gwaine make tasteless jokes all the time.

"Oh no, the pain." she stated flatly, clutching her not at all injured hand to her chest. "Why oh why did I punch that wall? Oh, the pain."

The homeless man continued to stare at her in complete bafflement and awe. Normally, that was to be expected of anyone who witnessed her magnificence, especially since this blessed soul was the first to witness her previously untapped acting talents, but it was not helpful when she was trying to get him to disregard what he'd seen. Maybe she should go for the 'oh, the pain' again-

" _Saber!"_

Mordred winced at her master's telepathic shout. She whirled away from the homeless man. "I'm here, I'm here. I hear you loud and clear, master."

" _Finally."_ Shishigou sighed. _"What the heck was that about?"_

"Nothing. It was no big deal. I said I'd be right back and I will," she shouted, though she cast a miserable glance at the homeless man over her shoulder before groaning forward. "I've just got to fix something real quick."

" _Fix something? Saber, who was on that motorcycle? Was it-"_

"No!" Mordred roared. "It wasn't him. It couldn't possibly have been him."

Father wouldn't run. Father was above such petty cowardice. He'd stand stalwart and face all his foes, before knocking them all down into the dirt where they belonged. Except her obviously.

Except if it wasn't him, then who else could possibly have given off that kind of presence? It was the same one! Exactly how she remembered it, from her first day on the Round Table to her final breath at Camlann. It _couldn't_ have been anyone else!

Could it?

Did she want it to have been him?

" _Right. Well, whoever it was, there isn't anything we can do about them in broad daylight."_ her master pointed out. _"Head back over here and we'll get set for Assassin tonight. And if we run into our mysterious biker then, you can show me and Archer how a king deals with their enemies, alright?"_

Mordred chuckled at that. "Right master. I'll be there soon."

She felt Shishigou's approval through their link before he fell silent. The Knight of Treachery let out a long sigh of exasperation. Between making sure she could eat as much as she wanted, listening to her brilliant strategies, and trusting her to do what she was meant to do, her necromancer master was proving himself the closest thing she'd had to a friend in her life, even if he did make her sleep in a dirty crypt.

But he was also a mercenary. He dealt with loose ends all the time, and even if he didn't enjoy it, he wouldn't hesitate to eliminate her little screw up. Which meant she needed to figure out a way to deal with it nonlethally and quick, before Archer got curious and- the homeless man was standing right behind her why?

She whirled around and glared at the shaggy idiot. "What is it?"

The man recoiled from her reproach before carefully opening his lips. "Um, girlie, what are you on?"

Okay, that was legitimately unexpected, enough that she didn't instantly break his face for calling her 'girlie'. "Huh?"

"What are you on? And whatever it is can I have some?" the man begged eagerly. "Because the way you were hitting the wall and going on to yourself, it must some _gooood_ shit- _oof_!"

His sentence went unfinished. Being socked into a wall by a legendary hero could have that effect.

Mordred wiped her hands of the fool and strode out of the alley. If he still remembered what he'd seen when he woke up, it was obvious he wouldn't figure out what had really happened. He'd have quite the concussion when he woke up, but he'd still be alive. All in a day's work for a noble knight.

Somehow though, she found herself overcome with a foreign sense of uncertainty, a thrill equal parts excitement and terror surging through her.

What would she do if it really was King Arthur she'd sensed, if her father really had returned?

She shook her head. What did it matter? It was a Holy Grail War, and she intended to win. There was one option available to her, and one alone. Besides, what better way was there of proving once and for all that she had surpassed him.

 _I have never once thought of you as detestable. The reason I did not relinquish the throne…_

"Shut up…" she muttered, a phantom voice echoing in her ears.

 _Was because you do not have the capacity to be king._

" _SHUT UP!_ "

A circle of bystanders jumped at her outburst, but they didn't have much time to gawk as she swiftly charged back to the cafe, her rage powering her briske advance.

King Arthur or no, she would win the Great Holy Grail War. She would get her wish and draw Caliburn from the stone. And then she'd show the world exactly what her capacity to be king was.

* * *

 **FATEFATEFATEFATE**

"Still no sign of anything up here," Shirou noted, his bow drawn, a sword-turned-arrow aimed out over the city of Bucharest from his perch atop a tower.

The close call with Mordred was certainly one way to arrive in the city. Though she hadn't pursued them after their initial escape, likely on her master's orders, the experience had more than rattled Saber. She'd spent every moment for nearly seven hours devising tricks to avoid being spotted again, from mingling with crowds and letting her hair down to switching between street level and the rooftops. She was mentally and emotionally exhausted. Fortunately, they still had more than enough time to get their bearings, though not as much as they would have preferred. It had all been a very unpleasant surprise and if not for Saber's inhaling of lunch, Shirou wasn't sure if she'd be up for the Assassin hunt. But the King of Knights insisted she was alright, and given she was… well… the King of Knights, Shirou was inclined to believe her.

They had left as early as they had that morning specifically so they could get a lay of the land before night fell and the hunt began, and because of that lookalike, they weren't nearly as prepared as they should have been. Hence Shirou's current role overlooking the city.

The sun had already set, but with reinforced eyes, he didn't need the light to see clearly. Very few people were outside tonight, for obvious reasons. To anyone who didn't know about magecraft, it seemed like there was an indiscriminate killer on the loose. This was good though. Bucharest was a big city, and it had been a very real possibility that there would be witnesses all over the place.

"Do you guys sense anything on the ground?" he asked.

" _Other than the ones we already knew about? Nothing,"_ Rin confirmed through the gem link. _"Saber?"_

" _I have not detected any Servants other than Mordred and her ally,"_ Saber confirmed. _"Cursed Assassin and its Presence Concealment."_

Shirou could sympathize with that. He'd only survived several encounters in the last Grail War due to being able to sense his enemies before they made their move, such as his initial encounter with Rider. While most Servants could suppress their power outside of combat, none outside of the Assassin Class could completely obscure it and their proficiency in doing so made them aggravating to seek out for the honorable battles that Saber preferred. Still, he sensed there was more troubling his old friend.

" _It doesn't help that Mordred is still on the lookout for me,"_ she added.

…case and point.

She'd suppressed her power as much as she could, but none of them believed for a moment that the Knight of Treachery wasn't at least trying to keep tabs on Arturia. They'd done their best to stay on the other side of the city, but even then Saber seemed more worried about her wayward son than their target. She seemed desperate to make sure Mordred never even saw her. Given how their battle at Camlann ended, he supposed such hesitation was only natural, but still she must have realized such a confrontation was inevitable.

No matter. They weren't there for a fight with the Red Faction. If they could take out Assassin of Black and get out without emotionally compromising Saber, they'd be fine.

Once he'd decided on his vantage point, he'd done his best to keep an eye on Mordred from a distance, and once he discovered she had another companion besides her Master, on the group as a whole. Saber had confirmed that the man with scars over his left eye—the one he'd met as he was leaving Kotomine's church—was the same mage she had seen with Mordred at Sighişoara. Kairi Shishigou, if he recalled correctly.

Of course, mages were just a single variable. The real issue had been that nun. There hadn't been anyone that looked like her in the church when he'd visited, though it was entirely possible that she had just been on an errand at the time. Of course, if he believed that, he also had to ask himself exactly how lucky he thought he was.

He and Rin had sensed two Servants in Bucharest besides Saber of Blue. Assassin of Black was hidden under Presence Concealment and Mordred was obviously one of the pair. He wouldn't be surprised if the nun was the second, a preconception that proved to be accurate when she hopped up onto a building from street-level and threw her habit aside.

And despite everything he knew about Servants, the only thing that came to his mind was, 'Why a catgirl?!'

Rin didn't have answer to that one.

With the nun's habit on, he might have suspected her for a Caster, but her bow said otherwise.

 _Tauropolos_

The bow granted to the Huntress of Arcadia. Meaning Archer of Red was Atalanta, the princess of Arcadia who'd been abandoned and left to die in the forest by her own father for no other reason than that he'd wanted a boy. She'd been rescued by the goddess Artemis and was raised by a bear, joined the Argonauts, and claimed no small amount of prestige by being the first among almost twenty other acclaimed heroes and demigods—though some accounts said it was closer to forty—to wound the Calydonian Boar. And after offending one of the gods, she was…cursed into the form of a…lion… oh, so _that's_ why she was a catgirl.

"Okay, correction, she's not a cat, she's a lion," he relayed to the others. "Atalanta of Arcadia."

He got no response for a moment, before Rin answered with a not very straightforward _"That's interesting, but not as interesting as why Saber started coughing the moment you said that."_

" _I apologize for any undue alarm. I thought I saw Mordred, but I think my eyes were playing tricks on me."_

Shirou decided not to call her out on what sounded like a blatantly obvious lie. Especially since he still had eyes on Mordred and she was on the other side of the city.

The Red Faction seemed to be aware of Assassin of Black's presence as well, which he considered fortunate because it meant that they were less likely to attack them and open themselves up to an ambush from the Servant of the Shadows. That left Shirou with a bird's eye view from the rooftops, allowing him to guide Rin and Saber as they patrolled the streets.

He noted the Red Faction used a similar strategy, with Mordred and her Master on the ground and Archer of Red providing cover. Throughout, Atalanta was demonstrating her abundant hunting experience. It wasn't just traditional stealth. It was clear just by watching her—when that was even possible—how aware she was of her surroundings, and those cat ears weren't for decoration. It wasn't as though she had Presence Concealment either; she was just that good at avoiding detection, managing to find suitable hiding spots no matter where she was among the city's old rooftops. If Shirou couldn't sense her magical energy, he would have never known she was also had little doubt that he'd been spotted by the Servant of the Bow.

It seemed like she was taunting him at several points, showing herself unnecessarily in feats of spectacular acrobatics, all but dancing across the Bucharest skyline as though daring him to attack her. At one point, he actually made the mistake of pointing his bow at her while she was in midair, just out of reflex upon seeing a sudden movement. An instant later, an arrow smashed through his bow and parted his hair like a gunslinger's warning shot.

She'd been upside down, coming out of a midair somersault and moving backwards. And she proceeded to land on a telephone wire and jumped to a new hiding spot from there. It was as uncanny as it was beautiful.

That said, Shirou wasn't in a particularly good position to admire the huntress' transitional grace, still reeling as he was after being told in the most tangible way that he could have had an arrow in his skull right now if she had willed it. Likely the only reason she hadn't was a desire not to risk drawing in more combatants before Assassin could be located. But the destruction of his bow, though not as debilitating as she likely expected, sent a clear message that she would not allow another ranged fighter in her skies. He'd have to be careful not to draw his opposite number's attention again.

"Hello there."

Shirou scowled. Wrong opposite number.

' _Shirou? Are you alright?'_ Rin called.

' _Maybe. I'll let you know when I find out.'_

' _When you f— Ugh, alright. Be careful, you idiot.'_

' _Aren't I aways?'_

' _Smartass.'_

Shirou turned around to see who'd joined him on the adjacent rooftop.

Archer of Black, Chiron, looked as calm and dignified as he had in the woods south of Trifas, a soft spring breeze surrounding him like a fine mist. Shirou quickly reviewed what skills he had registered when he had seen the man's weapon. As far as he could tell, there was no reason he shouldn't have sensed the centaur's approach—ah. Wisdom of Divine Gift. So Chiron had the ability to teach himself any skill that wasn't exclusive to another hero, including Presence Concealment. That was irritating. Still, no one could maintain that stealth if they were about to attack, so it appeared he was honoring the ceasefire.

Or at least the one beside him was.

He recognized her from the other night. Wavy brown hair, clear blue eyes, and a wheelchair that seemed far more complex than any other he'd seen in his life. She was most definitely Archer of Black's Master. He hadn't sensed her approach, so it wasn't very likely she intended to attack, and he could say with certainty that he couldn't feel the slightest bit of killing intent from her. But given her family…

On the other hand, her relation to Darnic didn't necessarily have to reflect on her. Raiga Fujimura was a ruthless gangster, and if his daughter could be hyperactive English teacher whose only violent inclinations began and ended with a shinai, why couldn't a Yggdmillennia Master be a decent person?

On the other hand, there was a difference between you father being a yakuza boss, and your grandfather being a soul-eating former Nazi.

 _Ergh_! What had he just talked to Ruler about? He couldn't judge Shirou Kotomine by his family and he could do so with this girl either. Just because she was related to Darnic didn't mean she was a scumbag like him.

Still, with a Servant right in front of him, he felt justified in conjuring Kanshou and Bakuya.

The girl's eyes widened. "Wait! I just want to talk!"

Shirou narrowed his eyes at her Servant, who maintained his serenity even as his bow flashed into existence.

"Why bring a Servant to talk?" he asked, _prana_ tingling through his swords.

"Apologies. That was by my insistence," Chiron informed him. "Though I have complete faith that you will obey the ceasefire between our factions, it would be unwise to leave my Master's side with two Red Faction Servants nearby."

A fair point. It would be pretty foolish of them to leave a Master unprotected, especially with an enemy Archer nearby who could strike at range before they were seen. His future self and Gilgamesh had both proven exactly how dire the consequences of doing so could be. Of course, hostility or not, he didn't put his swords away, though did lower them somewhat in a show of good faith.

The girl sighed in relief. "I suppose I should introduce myself. My name is Fiore Forvedge Yggdmillennia."

"Shirou Emiya," he replied cordially. "I'm sorry, but I really don't have time to talk right now. Thank you for obeying the ceasefire, but unless you're here to surrender, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"That was actually what I was going to say to you," Fiore stated evenly. She took a deep breath and held her head high, clearly trying to be as imposing as she could in spite of her disability. "I assume you were drawn here by the killings in the paper?"

Shirou nodded. "We were."

"Then you likely already suspect who the murderer is."

"Doesn't exactly take a genius. The Great Holy Grail War begins, and before the week is out, there are reports in the newspapers about murders 'mimicking' those of the greatest serial killer in English history. I guess the only question left to ask is whether he's acting alone."

Fiore cocked an eyebrow in confusion. "I'm afraid I don't understand."

"Then I'll be clearer," he glared, levelling a sword at the girl, " _I didn't see an Assassin with you in the forest_."

Fiore's eyes widened in shock. "Wait, you don't mean to suggest—?" she met his gaze with one of defiance. "Of course not! Why would we _ever_ do that?"

Okay, so she probably wasn't in on it at least. Her indignation upon her realization of what he had accused her wasn't exactly difficult to fake, but this girl struck him as being a terrible actor. Good to know there was one decent person in the Black Faction, but the jury was still out regarding the others.

"I can't be certain of anything. I honestly don't know," he told her. "But I'm more than aware of what your leader is capable of. Can you really say this would be beneath him?"

"Well… no," Fiore frowned. "Grandfather has… he can do horrible things. I'm not disputing that. But he doesn't do them without reason. He may have ordered the assassination of the Mage's Association's enforcers, but he wouldn't have attacked the civilians. And he hadn't…" she looked away, "He hadn't given orders to… have any of these latest mages killed yet."

Some of the victims were from the Mages Association? Huh, that was also good to know. "But Darnic wouldn't care if these mages died either. Or anyone, to be honest. From what I've heard, he's killed hundreds of people."

Fiore cringed. "That's true. But please believe me. I know to you, and especially to Rin Tohsaka, the Yggdmillennia must seem like a coven of storybook villains but the truth of the matter is that I've been sent here to retrieve our Assassin and prevent this incident from claiming any more lives. I regret to say that our Assassin has gone rogue. About a week ago, around the time that the murders started, our last Master failed to report in and we've been unable to get in contact with him. We believe that Assassin killed its Master and recontracted with someone else."

The paralyzed girl's voice was firm, but Shirou could feel the desperation underneath. She needed him to believe her, to believe that her family wasn't as black as they were painted. As heartless as her leader made them seem.

The question was, why?

Suddenly—

" _EEP!"_

The swift _crack_ of a gandr hitting solid stone echoed somewhere in the streets below them.

"Rin! What happened?" he shouted, suddenly combat ready again. "Is it Assassin?"

" _Ugh… no. Sorry, false alarm,"_ Rin grumbled.

"What was it?"

 _"Don't ask."_

"What? Wh—"

" _Don't! Ask!"_ she repeated, more forcefully this time.

"What was that?" Fiore asked, Chiron having nocked an arrow at her side.

"Apparently, you shouldn't ask," he answered with complete honesty. It felt good to be upfront about things once in a while.

"As I was saying… Aren't you a mage?" he asked, putting Rin to the back of his mind. "Your family seceded from the Mages Association, but I doubt it was over their lack of concern for collateral damage when it came to magecraft related incidents. Why do you care if outsiders die?"

He caught Chiron's gaze flicker to his Master, curiosity evident in his eyes. It seemed his query was a shared one.

Fiore pushed herself deeper into the seat of her wheelchair, shying away from him like a cat that had been struck. For a moment, Shirou wondered if she would answer at all.

Finally, she looked back up at him, some measure of steel in her gaze. "Why didn't you kill all of us when you had the chance?"

Shirou smirked. "You mean besides needing to use you to whittle down the Red Faction?"

"Besides that."

"Because I don't want to kill you," Shirou answered, his voice iron and true.

Fiore blinked, stunned by his words. Even Chiron cocked an eyebrow.

"Don't get me wrong, I knew what I was getting into when I joined the war," he assured them. "I understand that the Servants have to die for the war to proceed, in the end, they're already dead. They've lived their lives, for better or worse, there is nothing I can do about that. And if it comes down to it, I'll do what I have to when I meet the other Masters, but ideally, I'd want them all to survive. I'm going to save everyone I can."

Master and Servant of Black alike started at him in utter befuddlement. Then, Chiron settled into a respectful smile. "And they say there are none worthy of the throne left in this age."

"I wouldn't go that far," Shirou refuted, a crimson mantle atop a lonely hill flashing through his mind. "But I do my best. Rin and I don't have any wish of our own. We're just here to make sure no one dangerous gets the grail."

"But that doesn't make any sense!" Fiore scrambled, frantically looking between him and her Servant. "You… you have a Reality Marble. To manifest something like that, it should have taken _generations_ of meticulous study."

"That's normally true, but I'm something of a special case. What does that have to do with your previous question?"

"Everything! You've reached the pinnacle of Thaumaturgy! You're one step away from the Root! You shouldn't—you _couldn't_ be anything but a traditional mage!" Fiore exclaimed, realizing she was sitting too far forward in her chair and pushing herself back. making sure not to get too flustered given how high up they were. "You're one step away from the Root, you should want to get to there even more than grandfather, not… how can you be so compassionate—?"

"Why do you want it?"

The girl blinked. "What?"

"What wish do you have for the grail?" Shirou inquired. "You said Darnic wanted the grail to reach the Root. That implies that your wish is for something else. So what do _you_ want from it?"

Once again, Fiore became withdrawn. Her hands glided over her unresponsive knees.

"I was born with a nearly unprecedentedly high magic circuit count. But they're all in my legs, and they're interfering with the nerves in my legs. That's why I'm in a wheelchair. If I had my magic circuits removed, I'd be able to walk, but it would mean losing _all_ of my magic circuits. I'd never be able to use magecraft again."

Shirou nodded. So that was it.

"My wish is to be able to stand up," she whispered. "I want to walk on my own two feet without giving up on living my life as a mage."

"Master…" Chiron placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Fiore smiled at him and then faced Shirou with a gaze of iron. "That is why I must win the grail. And it is also why I ask you to let us retrieve our Assassin without interference. As a Servant of Black, they are off limits to you for the duration of the ceasefire. I promise, we won't allow this kind of careless slaughter to happen again."

Shirou decided then that he liked Fiore Forvedge Yggdmillennia. She was a kind soul, especially for a mage. Under different circumstances, he felt they could have been friends. Unfortunately, war was not the best time to make friends with your opponents.

"I'm sorry. I'm not able to do that. The death toll is too high already, and Assassin's Master is either under his control or worse, complicit in the crimes," he said calmly. "And you've already failed to control them once. That doesn't exactly inspire my confidence that you can rein them in."

"But the ceasefire—"

"Didn't you already say Assassin has gone rogue?"

Her counterargument sputtered to a halt. "Well… yes…"

"Then by the rules of the war, they're no longer associated with any faction. And they must be eliminated as quickly as possible." Shirou's expression darkened as memories of Caster and Gilgamesh flooded his mind. "Trust me. Something like this never ends well. The best thing anyone can do is to try and mitigate the damage as much as we can."

Fiore looked like she wanted to argue, but the steel in his eyes killed her words before they left her mouth. "I… I understand. We won't attack you while you're attempting to eliminate them."

"Although, do bear in mind that we will be attempting to extricate them at the same time," Chiron added, an almost teasing smirk of his own aimed at Shirou. "I must admit, after the events in the forest, I am eager to see how your group performs against the Red Faction."

Shirou didn't know exactly how well they would do either, given Saber's anxieties about Mordred. But there was no reason to let the Sage of Heroes know that, so he flashed the disguised centaur a rival grin. "Maybe you'll get your chance. Or maybe we'll get to see how _you_ do against them."

"Perhaps." Chiron bowed his head to Fiore. "Master, are you satisfied?"

Fiore's brow furrowed for a moment but in the end she nodded. "Yes. Let's go, Archer." The Servant of the Bow nodded and took up a position behind his Master's wheelchair.

"For what it's worth, Shirou Emiya," she called back towards him. "I'm sorry for what my Grandfather did to the Tohsakas."

Shirou cocked an eyebrow. "Sorry? For something you weren't involved with, that happened before you were born? Who was it that wasn't acting like a proper mage again, Yggdmillennia?"

"Oh, don't worry," the girl smirked. "If it comes down to it, I'll do what I have to."

Shirou allowed himself a brief chuckle as she echoed his earlier statement, but he couldn't help but frown as he realized he needed to ask, "One last question: If you know what Darnic is, what he's done, why would you ever side with him?"

Once again, Fiore avoided meeting his eyes. Her hands clenched against the arms of her chair. "Because, for whatever horrible things he's done, he's still capable of worse."

"And do you really think he won't if you both make it to the war's individual stage?"

"To be a mage is to walk with death," she recited. "I've come to accept that, and can cross that bridge when I come to it. But believe me, Shirou Emiya. I have no intention of dying here."

With that, Archer made the barest movements and the pair disappeared.

Shirou sighed tiredly. "No one does. And yet they do all the same."

He looked back out over the skyline in time to see Archer of Black skirt around the corner of a steeple off in the distance, his false Presence Concealment cloaking him and his master.

"So, how long were you listening in?"

" _She's lying,"_ Rin declared. _"Not about her intentions, we can trust her not to shoot us in the back, but I know when someone is just reciting mage doctrine when I hear it. I did it myself for a long time, though she's worse than I ever was. She doesn't know how to be ruthless. Even if she's superior to that third-rate hack in every way as a mage, she'll still die, because when she hesitates at the last second, he'll go for the throat without a second thought."_

"Don't be so grim. And that doesn't really answer my question, either."

" _Most of it. And I don't mean to sound like she's doomed or anything. I'm just saying we have to kill Darnic before the war reaches phase two."_

"Well, no sense arguing with that," Shirou grumbled. "I'm not giving up on Darnic, but I'm not expecting much from him. He can choose for himself whether he wants to live or die."

" _She seemed to have her doubts about him,"_ Saber noted. _"Perhaps we can persuade her to join us once the other Factions have been whittled down. Her wish is innocent enough. If she proves to be everything she seems, I see no harm in entrusting her with the grail."_

"We don't have anything to use it for, so I would be okay with that. Zelretch did say we just needed to win," Shirou agreed. "Where are you right now?"

 _"We came to find you as a precaution when we heard someone else's voice over your gem-link, so we should only be a few blocks away right now."_

"Right, I'll come and meet you in a few minutes."

He noticed Archer of Red leap across a number of buildings, not even keeping a pretence of keeping herself hidden all of a sudden, but he hadn't seen any signs of fighting. Had the Master of Red gotten hurt? If so, Saber might not have to meet Mordred after all. That'd be a relief for her, even if he personally hoped the man was alright.

"So," he added, "If you were listening in the whole time, why wasn't I getting a running commentary from the peanut gallery the whole time?"

 _"She tried once, but I reminded her that her focus needed to be elsewhere."_

" _You didn't have to make me think Assassin was right behind me!"_

Oh, so _that's_ what he wasn't supposed to ask about.

"So _that's_ what I wasn't supposed to ask about," he said cheekily.

 _"What? Of course not,"_ Rin refuted.

Shirou smirked. "Sure."

 _"I'm serious!"_

"I heard you yelp and fire a gandr, _and you both just said it happened_."

"We cannot afford to split our focus between our task and this conversation," Saber cut in, dragging the both of them out of their banter. "Particularly when Assassin could appear at any moment."

 _"Honestly, why haven't they appeared yet?"_ Rin groused, _"Why is it that the enemy Servant suddenly decides to play it safe the moment we want it to attack us. Where's the damn serial killer?"_

Shirou turned back to the Bucharest skyline. His eyes widened. "I think I have an answer to that question."

Off in the distance, in the direction that he'd seen Archer of Red headed, a thick, murky fog was climbing over the rooftops, obscuring the entire area.

Within moments, an entire district was obscured from view, as the Mist cloaked the area like a shroud.

* * *

 **Okay! Finally! Jack, next chapter! Hallelujah! Seriously, why did this thing get so stupid long?**

 **A huge thank you to my patrons: Gregg Tracton, Keith Traction, Cool guy, and my newest patron StabKingPro.**

 **Thank you for Reading! I hope you enjoy what comes next!**

 **Go Forth and Conquer!**


	11. Chapter 10

**The chapter of December... *sigh*. At least we're not anymore behind. Important announcement after the chapter.**

 **A warning to readers, straight from the lips of Draconic: Parts of this chapter, most notably Fiore's segment, have a copious amount of graphic imagery due to nightmare logic coupled with Jack's obscenely hideous perception of the world. If you are faint of heart, it doesn't start immediately, and there's plenty of 'warning' beforehand, so if you expect something** _ **really**_ **bad to be coming up, you're probably right, and you should ctrl-F to the next instance of FATEFATE. With that out if the way, Draconic sincerely hopes that you… enjoy… this chapter. But be mindful that his definition of enjoy™ may** _ **differ**_ **from yours.**

 **Draconic is firmly of the opinion that Jack the Ripper's theme isn't remotely creepy enough for her nightmare, so for those of you who are inclined to read with series music accompaniment, skip out on the Fate/Apocrypha soundtrack for most of this chapter; once the nightmare starts, put on Arbiters Grounds from the soundtrack of The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess, maybe An Empire in Ruins from Final Fantasy XV if you want some variation.**

 **Beta-ed by Draconic**

* * *

Time to eat! Time to eat! Time to eat!

Yay!

 _They_ were a bit worried when _they'd_ started sensing mages arriving in the city with other Servants, but with _their_ mommy safe back at the house, _they_ could just kill the Masters and eat their hearts. Then the mean other Servants would go away! Because they'd be dead! No one ever tried to hurt _them_ after they cut their throats, so it was better that way.

Yay!

Ooooo! And when they were all dead, _they_ would get the Grail! Then, she and Mommy would be able to stay together forever, and ever, and ever!

It would be so much fun! They'd play piano, and eat steak, and bad people's hearts! If only there weren't so many bad people in the world. People who didn't want to share their hearts with _them_. People who wouldn't play with _them_. People who didn't like _them_. People who hated _them_. People who killed _them_. But _they_ and Mommy would be happy forever and ever!

First, though, _they_ needed to stop the bad people and their Servants from hurting Mommy. But this would be fun!

 _They_ would just chop them all up and everything would be good again.

The fog had already set out over the town, the Murderer of the Misty Night's toxic fumes seeping through the streets, trapping all who were consumed within it. It would provide great cover from that silly Archer on the rooftops and the toxins would easily poison the scarred mage. His armored knight wouldn't be able to protect him from something he couldn't stab.

It was too bad no one else wanted to come out and play. They all closed their doors and shunned _them_. Meanies. Jack just wanted to play.

But something was wrong. The mage teetered over, but then he put a cloth over his mouth and nose to try and keep their mist out! That wasn't fair! He was cheating! And the knight… the knight picked him up and was somehow moving out of the fog! No fair! _No fair!_ No one was supposed to be able to know the way around the mist except them! It was against the rules!

Oh well. That just meant _they'd_ get to cut him up, and that would be lots of fun!

The knight and the mage escaped the fog, but the latter kneeled over as he coughed.

Time to kill him!

 _They_ dashed over, ready to hop onto the scarred man's shoulder and slice up his throat, when _they_ heard the wind go ' _swish_ ,' and darted to the side. A mean old arrow smashed into the ground where they were a moment earlier, sending pebbles flying everywhere.

"Took you long enough, Archer!" the knight roared, pushing the mage behind them and raising their crimson and grey sword. "Now you're mine, Assassin!"

Hmm… so the Archer was helping them? Darn it! Fighting them while also dodging arrows wouldn't be any fun at all, not at all.

Of course, they couldn't shoot their little arrows if they couldn't see, no siree!

"Come and play then!" _they_ cheered, leaping back into their fog. The silly knight dashed in right after. He was so eager to die! He'd be so much fun to play with! He was even managing to follow _them_ in the mist. "Wow! You're pretty good!"

"Say what you will, Assassin," the knight scoffed. "You aren't a Heroic Spirit. You're a mere serial killer!"

"Oh," they gasped. "How did you know?" _They'd_ been sure to be extra careful. _They_ never used to eat the hearts and souls before, just sliced them up a bit. How had the knight figured out it was _them_?

"What?"

Oh, he hadn't. That was sad.

But _they_ could just tell him! Yay! It'd be fun! _They_ could imagine the desperate fear strangling his eyes under that creepy helmet.

 _They_ scampered up onto his shoulder, taking in the weird scent coming off him. "Our true name is Jack the Ripper."

The knight sucked in a startled breath and instantly threw them off. "Yeah, I got the memo earlier. Master said you had a distinctive style, something like… you killed most of your victims by asphyxi-whatever and then cutting their throats."

"Oh, so _he_ knows about us?"

"Yeah, but that's none of your business!" the knight swung his sword again and _they_ flipped out of the way. The dumb metal man was so slow!

"Pretty, pretty please," _they_ smiled. "Would you tell us what your true name is?"

It was curious. The smell _they'd_ caught coming off the knight was strange. Unless… hmm, _they'd_ need another sniff to be sure.

Oh, look, the knight was swinging his sword down on them! How cute!

 _They_ skipped out of the way of the incoming blade and flipped back onto his shoulder. Or rather, as another sniff revealed, _her_ shoulder.

"Ha! We knew it!" they cheered, dodging another slash and soaring back into the mist. "You're a woman! In that case, yup, why don't we do _that?_ "

 _Their_ Noble Phantasm needed to be used on a woman, at night, when there was mist. Just like… that place. And when they did, the knight would go bye-bye! Rip! _Rip! RIP!_

 _"_ **Maria the** _—"_

"Don't underestimate me!" the knight shouted, her helmet retracting into her armor as she raised her sword to the sky. " **Red Thunder**!"

A tempest of crimson lightning erupted from the blade, thrashing and crackling throughout the courtyard, blasting away their mist. No fair!

"It's over, Assassin!" the knight declared, thrusting her sword at them. "Feel free to cry and scream to your heart's content, because without your head, you won't be able to do either of those things anymore."

They knew the woman was right. If her sword was anything to go by, she was definitely Saber of Red and with the fog dispersed, her Archer ally would be able to provide plenty of support.

Jack knew they were tougher than people would expect of an Assassin, but taking on two of the knight classes at once was still a bit of a stretch.

Yet they couldn't help but laugh. It was all kinds of fun.

"Oh, come on!" they cheered, whipping out two of their many knives and rushing forward. "We're still so hungry!"

Saber grinned and met their charge. "You are gonna regret this, Assassin!"

They readied their blades to meet the knight's heavy sword. There was no way they could win in strength, Sabers were good at that. But they were small, they were quick, and they were really good at hide-and-go-seek! They'd slip through the chinks in Saber's armor, slice up her tendons, and devour her core!

Mommy was going to be so proud!

Suddenly, Saber of Red's eyes widened. Her assault halted, and she rushed backward. They heard it too, just like before.

But this arrow wasn't aimed at them. It struck where Saber had been before, shattering the ground in a hail of concrete and fire. The force of the blast tore through their skin and gave them a bunch of cuts and bruises. Owie! That hurt! That wasn't fair! Cheaters deserved to _die_.

"Damn it, Archer! Can't you aim?" Saber yelled.

"That wasn't me," a new woman on the rooftops, the Archer, called down. "Black Faction reinforcements are here."

"Then hurry up and kill them!"

The rest of the Black Faction was here? Oh no. The last time they met one of them, they tried to hurt mommy. _They_ had to get back to her before they found her. Saber and Archer were busy deflecting more arrows from the enemy, so they turned around and darted away.

But _they_ were blocked by… Saber?

How had she gotten behind _them_ so fast?! Why was she in different armor? And why was her sword suddenly invisible?

 _They_ felt the rush of air from the oncoming swing even if _they_ couldn't see the blade, bringing up _their_ knives to block the strike. But it was too much, Saber was way too strong, and _they_ couldn't take it. _Their_ knives flew from _their_ hands and they lodged themselves in the ground. _They_ themselves were smashed into the sidewalk, a crater erupting from the huge force of the impact.

No problem. _They_ were fast. When _they_ got away, _they_ could bring back the mist and obliterate Saber no matter how much she teleported—ooh, pretty crystals! They flew through the air, glittering just like the ones that mommy had looked at in the store and—why were they glowing with _prana_?

The gems exploded a moment later, encasing _them_ in a torpor of violet crystal. _They_ could still move but it took way too long, like moving through a sea of mud, but slower! No matter how hard _they_ tried, _they_ couldn't break the crystal surrounding _them_. At this rate, _they_ wouldn't be able to get away! _They_ wouldn't be able to protect Mommy!

"I forgot how nice it is when they don't have Magic Resistance," said a new voice, a girl in red with long black hair. "Finish… her? Huh, Jack the Ripper's a loli in… what the actual hell is she wearing? Ugh, whatever. Not like it matters much in the end. Finish her off, Saber!"

"As you command, Master."

No, no, no, no, no! _They_ couldn't die! _They_ didn't want to! _They_ needed to get back to Mommy! She was waiting for _them_ with hamburg steak!

 _They_ struggled with everything _they_ had, but the shiny rock wouldn't budge. The best _they_ could do was make the slightest of cracks and Saber's sword was already coming down to strike.

No, no, they'd suffer. They'd all feel what _they_ did. _They'd_ make them all hurt. _They'd_ kill them, warp them, make them understand. The one who dealt the final blow would be _their_ new mommy and the rest would know _their_ suffering.

They would all know what it meant to see Hell!

 _tiMe To pLAy_

* * *

 **FATEFATEFATEFATE**

Fucking pansy-ass Archer! What was the point of even having her around her if she couldn't even see through Assassin's fog? Her Master nearly died in there!

No matter. The lion-eared bowman could handle Archer of Black, and her Master could engage the enemy mage. She couldn't let Assassin of Black escape, especially now that she knew that thing's true name. Jack the Ripper was guaranteed to leave a trail of carnage across the countryside if she got away, and Mordred suspected that the little shit had a _really_ screwed up idea of what it meant to paint the town red.

At least, Mordred thought it was a she? They referred to themselves as 'we', but there was clearly only one… screw it, she was killing her anyway.

The Knight of Treachery whipped around to where Assassin had tried to flee, the wretched thing bogged down in some strange crystal at the edge of the fog. There were two figures inside the mist, obscured from Mordred's vision. But not enough that she couldn't see one of them bringing down something else she couldn't see on the trapped Servant.

"Oh no, you don't!" Mordred yelled, activating her Prana Burst and blasting towards the trio in a hail of crimson lighting. "She's mine!"

She'd done all the work in drawing Assassin out. She'd thrown off most of her mist. She did all the work. No one was stealing her prey!

Surprisingly, her shouts had an effect on the figure making for Assassin, who flinched and immediately fell back.

That provided Mordred with just enough of an opening to thrust Clarent forward, obliterating the violet crystal and cleaving Assassin in two.

The Saber of Red hoisted her weapon to the sky with a triumphant cheer. "Ha! I told you you'd regret this, you cowardly serial killer!"

A thick line of mist slowly whisked upward from both halves of the corpse, but Mordred paid it little heed. This new opponent, another Saber, if she hadn't misheard, would be ready to pounce immediately. And if it was Saber of Periwinkle, and they were who she'd thought they were…

No! They ran from her earlier. It couldn't possibly—

A pair of faces emerged from the smog. One was an elegant eastern woman with clear blue eyes and long dark hair pulled back into twin tails. And the other's face was…

Her own.

"Saber," the eastern woman, obviously the Master, spoke warily. "That's her, right?"

"It is, Master," the king confirmed, gulping. "That is Mordred."

Mordred.

Just Mordred.

Not 'my son Mordred,' or 'my knight Mordred,' not even 'my killer Mordred'. Just Mordred. As though they were nothing to each other. As though they weren't blood to each other!

"Wait a minute…" said the mage, staring at the fog rising from the bisected body, "Why is…"

The Knight of Rebellion's head pounded like a war drum, her face twitching madly as her mind attempted to process this new revelation, that she had been granted the esteemed privilege of reuniting with her father by the Holy Grail, only for him to deny her presence, her birthright, her rightful kingship _again!_

She was so consumed with a violent mix of unrelenting fury and total euphoria that she hardly noticed King Arthur and his Master give a start when something cracked noisily between them.

"Fa—"

The sound of her father's voice shouting a warning jarred her from her wild reverie, whether it had been to her, the Master, or both of them, it was too late, as she saw Assassin's neck, bent at an impossible angle, her arms awkwardly reaching towards her, like a demented puppet. Deranged, snake-like eyes bored a hole into the Knight of Treachery as a rush of fog exploded out of the serial killer's still-moving corpse.

And the king disappeared from her sight once more, stolen by the mist.

"F–Fath—"

* * *

 **FATEFATEFATEFATE**

 _They_ surrounded the knight, all the countless of _them_ , _their_ souls extinguished before they could ignite. _Their_ vengeance, _their_ curse, the first layer of their _nightmare_. The Saber had only been there for a few moments and her head was already twitching wildly as she feel deeper and deeper into insanity.

Soon, _they_ would drive her irreversibly mad.

 _"Why did you have to kill us?"_ some of _them_ asked pitifully. _"Why did you have to take us from our mommy?"_

"F-Fa—Fath—Fa—Fa—"

Ha. She couldn't even comprehend what was happening to her. So much for the strongest class. Their curse would devour her mind soon enough.

 _They_ all converged upon her, wrapping her in smoke and shadow as _they_ hugged her tight, whispering desperate pleas in her ear with a thousand lost and broken voices.

 _"Please don't leave us."_

 _"It's so cold."_

 _"Please keep us warm."_

 _"We're freezing."_

 _"Stay with us, won't you?"_

 _"Please be our mommy."_

"Father…"

All the spirits of Jack the Ripper paused, quirking their heads to the side. _"What?"_

Saber of Red's twitching head accelerated, her eyes straight ahead, crimson sparks rocketing off her armor every which way, blasting the revenant spirits away with each shock. "Father."

 _"No!"_ The spirits squealed in panic. _"Mommy! We want our—"_

" _FATHERRRRR!_ "

Saber's roar unleashed a maelstrom of scarlet electricity, the tempest stampeding out all around her, obliterating the special realm made for her.

The spirits wailed, unable to comprehend what was happening. _They_ were sure _their_ curse was perfect, _their_ pleas irresistible. How had Saber brushed them aside? Was it her Magic Resistance? Or something else? And what in the world was a 'father'?

No. It didn't matter. She may have escaped _their_ special place, but she was still trapped in the nightmare. They all were. The four mages, the four Servants, and even that dumb homunculus. They would all know _their_ hell. They would suffer _their_ torment.

The knight's eyes suddenly focused on _them_ , and she smiled. But she looked angry. Why would someone smile when they weren't having fun?

"You insignificant little VERMIN! _GET THE HELL OUT OF MY WAY!_ "

…

The knight's sword ripped through several of _them_ , but _they_ smiled even as the weapon tore through _their_ face.

"What does insignificant mean?" _they_ asked.

The knight snarled like a big, scary tiger.

"It means that you're _worthless_ , you disgusting ghost-brat. It means that if you never existed, the world would be no different…" she paused, "It means that when I kill you, no one in the whole world will care. Not for so much as a second!"

Jack frowned. This knight in red… she was a liar. She was a liar, and Mommy said that lying was bad. This knight in red was a very bad girl.

Bad girls needed to be punished.

As more and more of _themselves_ got chopped up though, they decided that maybe _they_ would have to get back to this one later. She wasn't as much fun as before.

But Mommy loved _them_.

This knight was a liar! Liar, liar, liar! _They_ were going to rip her apart!

* * *

 **FATEFATEFATEFATE**

"Okay?" Rin muttered, glancing about their new surroundings. "This is unexpected."

Saber couldn't help but concur. She'd hesitated when she'd heard Mordred's cry, pulling her sword back to defend against an attack she'd been sure was coming. Instead, her son had slain the trapped Assassin, who'd somehow transported them all to some murky ghost town.

The buildings' rundown architecture would be more suited to the older stylings of Trifas or Sighisoara than the more modern sense they'd witnessed in Bucharest. The streets were littered with broken cobblestones and wrecked carts. And the smell… Saber unfortunately recalled enough from her own time to recognize the miasma of improperly disposed excrement. With any luck, that would be the greatest threat they'd encounter here, but she didn't put much faith that hope.

"Saber, you're wearing your dress instead of your armor. What happened?"

Saber blinked and looked down at herself. She _was_ wearing her dress without her cuirass. She had no recollection of dispelling her armor, so why wasn't she wearing it? Trying to invoke it didn't seem to be doing anything either.

"I… have no idea," she answered. "My armor does not seem to be responding to me."

Rin raised an eyebrow, but didn't press the issue further. It seemed she was still trying to get her bearings.

"This place… it is similar to the bounded field Caster trapped us in when she ransomed Taiga," noted Saber. "How could Assassin have created such a domain?"

"I'm not sure," Rin confessed, her eyes narrowing at their new surroundings. "It's not out of the question for an Assassin to be able to use magecraft, but Jack the Ripper? That seems unlikely, especially when considering she was—" Rin hesitated and Saber began to realize that something else was wrong other than their unnatural relocation. "It… it was a her, right?"

Saber furrowed her brow in thought. Her mind suddenly felt as clouded as their foggy surroundings. She could recall seeing Assassin and getting a clear look at their face, but for the life of her, she couldn't actually remember what it looked like. All she was certain of was that Mordred struck them down after Rin trapped them with her gems. After that…

This was bizarre. It had literally been seconds since she was staring at Assassin. How was it possible for her to have completely forgotten what it looked like?

"I… can recall seeing her moments ago, but I feel as though everything about her appearance itself has been scoured from my memory."

"Could that be one of its personal skills?" Rin asked.

"I have never encountered such a technique before," Saber answered, "however it would be unwise to rule out that possibility."

"I can't remember what I was even trying to say. Something about her made me feel like she wouldn't be capable of magecraft, but I haven't got the first clue what it was, or even why I was thinking that. This isn't loss of memory either. It's probably some form of mental pollution," Rin sighed. "In any case, it can't be Assassin since Saber of Red killed it."

A chorus of childish giggles rang out from the multitude of dark alleys.

"I thought so as well, but I find myself sorely tempted to reevaluate that notion."

Saber raised her invisible sword, grateful that she at least still had her weapons, while Rin primed a _gandr_ spell on the tip of her index finger. Deep within the shadows, they could see dozens of malicious glimmering eyes leering at them.

"This is just great," Rin said, her voice betraying how unnerved she was by all this. "Children laughing… in the dead of a foggy night… in a ghost town… while glowing eyes watch us from an alley. Because those are _always_ a good sign."

"Stay close to me, Rin," Saber advised. "Our foe does not seem the type to fall easily."

"R-Right. We should—Wait, what the—!" Tohsaka stammered, suddenly fumbling about in her pockets.

"Rin, what's wrong?"

Her Master turned to look at her, suddenly appearing even less sure of herself.

"My jewels…" she hissed. "They're _gone_. They've all just vanished!" She continued rifling through her pockets. "Shirou? Can you hear me? Shirou?!"

Saber saw bags forming under the girl's eyes, terror securing itself in her sapphire depths.

"All of them? Does that include the one we've been using to communicate with Shirou?" Saber glanced around warily.

"Yes! It-It's not like I could have lost them! I felt them in my pockets just seconds ago!"

Saber abruptly realized she was wearing her armor now. What in the world…?

"Considering the circumstances, I find that surprisingly easy to believe."

"We have to find him. If he was sucked in as well, he'll be in trouble."

Indeed. Shirou was more than capable of handling any of the other Masters who were sucked into the field, but there was no telling what Assassin's trickery was capable of. He wouldn't get a chance to trace a sword if there was already a knife in his back.

And then there was Mordred.

Her son had seen her. She knew she was there. Her hopes of letting the knight grow on her own, to heal and evolve in the company of her Master with whom she seemed to get along splendidly with, all of them felt so hollow. Her efforts to avoid them had been for nothing. Mordred would focus on her like a dog with a bone and throw away everything she might have gained for another chance at her head.

If she discovered Shirou had a connection to her, Arturia had to account for the possibility that Mordred use him as bait to draw her in. Saber had faith in her former Master's skills, but he would not be able to face that knight at close range for long. Mordred lacked finesse, had a tendency to show off, and relied mostly on brute force, but she had enough brute force to overwhelm him ten times over. Just once would take a matter of minutes, and that was if he was lucky.

On the other hand, given the inexplicable shift in locale, the eerie laughter, and the disappearance and reappearance of their possessions and equipment, who knew if strength even mattered here?

—GONG—!

The sound of a bell tolling somewhere overhead made them start, looking around for its source.

Rin ran over to a nearby house, reinforced her limbs, and scrambled her way onto the roof, before turning around to face back in Saber's direction as the bell continued its slow, grim tolling.

"Oh my god…" she whispered.

"Rin, what is it?"

"That's not what it's supposed to sound like," Rin's gaze intensified such that Saber could tell even from their distance. Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped, staring in stupefaction at the source of the noise. "It's supposed to be a series of notes."

"You know where we are?"

Rin just gestured for her to join her on the roof. And upon doing so, she understood. The great clock tower and the palace it was built into were unmistakable.

"Saber… We're in London."

Saber nodded. She had never felt less enthusiastic to be 'home.' But something about this Britain… it felt completely, irreparably _wrong_.

The bell gave one final bellow and stopped. Twelve o'clock midnight.

"You said the clock was not meant to sound like that," Saber noted. I had an observation of my own. It was far too slow for a clock. It almost sounded like—"

"A church bell," finished Rin, her expression darkening. "I'd say that we're right on time for a funeral."

* * *

 **FATEFATEFATEFATE**

"Archer?" Fiore inquired, glancing anxiously about the desolate rooftops as they took in the abrupt change in their surroundings. "Where did this bounded field come from?"

"I am unsure, Master," Chiron replied, securitizing their surroundings. "Archer of Red's clothing was Mediterranean in origin, so if she did possess any magecraft of this magnitude, it seems unlikely that it would send us to surroundings of this nature. Saber of Red does not seem the type to bother with such machinations and the Blue Faction has not had the time to prepare something like this."

"Leaving Assassin of Black as the only suspect," Fiore finished. "But you said Saber of Red struck them down?"

"I did, Master. Though, perhaps death is not the impediment it used to be."

"Wonderful."

Between Shriou Emiya's Reality Marble and Assassin's new trick, Fiore was getting quite tired of being forcibly transported to dangerous alternate worlds. She didn't think her current surroundings were on the same level as the previous inner world, people weren't stumbling out of their homes wondering why they were suddenly in Victorian England after all, but it seemed different from a standard bounded field. Getting out would not be a simple matter. She was grateful that Caules was at the edge of the city with their escort of homunculi. She didn't think her little brother would be capable of dealing with something of this magnitude, at the very least he would have needed to use a Command Seal to bring Berserker to his side.

Granted, she didn't know if she herself would be able to handle this mess. Her mission was already a failure given Assassin of Black's demise and now she had to do everything she could to survive the fallout. The Great Holy Grail War had already spiraled far beyond what she had expected, what with the events surrounding the escaped homunculus and the arrival of the Third Faction. She'd had to ready herself enough to confront any possible friends from the Clock Tower who were drafted into the Red Faction, but dealing with Rin Tohsaka? The King of Knights? Shirou Emiya?

Try as she might, Fiore simply couldn't wrap her head around the man with the Reality Marble. Throughout her conversation with him, every question she'd asked him, he'd always responded that he just wanted to save people, even the Masters who were his enemies, who would doubtlessly try to murder him if given the chance. He seemed so genuine, so honest… yet his answers were completely ridiculous. Fighting for the Grail, not even to claim a wish, but just to ensure no one with malicious intent used it to hurt others? To give up a tactical advantage simply so he could save others? That was too altruistic, too noble. He was like one of those colorful comic book characters Caules liked to read about.

He had to have an ulterior motive. He had to be planning some sort of trap, a way to make the Black and Red Factions destroy each other so he and Tohsaka could sweep whoever remained aside with ease. That was what mages did. They were cruel and cunning and ruthless. Just like she'd have to be if she was to survive the war and heal her legs.

She had to be.

But that didn't mean she should break her word. Disregarding the repercussions Ruler would bring down on her and her family if she broke the ceasefire with the Blue Faction, there would be no telling if further cooperation with Tohsaka and Emiya would be required later on to defeat the Red Faction. It would do little good if any suspicions about her trustworthiness were already jeopardized. She had to maintain her honesty, so she could break it at the optimal moment.

Yes. That was it. The optimal moment.

She could do this.

"Master, are you alright?" Chiron asked concernedly. "You seem lost in thought."

Fiore snapped up instantly. She couldn't afford to show weakness. She trusted Chiron with her life, but he was still technically her subordinate. It was her duty as a Master to keep a cool head and inspire confidence in her Servant during combat, regardless of any annoying moral quandaries that were running through her head.

"Everything is fine, Archer," she reassured him. "Just trying to figure out how we might escape this place."

Chiron raised an eyebrow. "Is that so? Are you sure that's all you're thinking about, Master?"

She blinked in surprise at his tone before sighing in defeat. Of course, she couldn't fool him. He was the Sage of Heroes, a trainer of some of the finest warriors to ever walk the Earth. And any teacher worth their salt could sniff out a student's lie from a mile away, and whether she had realized it or not, it was clear that she was indeed his student.

"Shirou Emiya," she said simply.

"Ah," Chiron nodded. "You doubt him."

"Shouldn't I?" Fiore asked. "Taking things at face value is practically suicide for a mage. And even if it wasn't, who could possibly believe what he said? That he has no interest in an omnipotent wish granter?"

"You raise exemplary points. His stated goals are highly unconventional," Chiron smiled, as if congratulating a student for putting all their effort into a challenging problem. And about to kindly correct them because they still came to the wrong conclusion. "However, that does not necessarily mean he isn't telling the truth about them."

"What? How? Are you saying we should just take him at his word?"

"Not at all. But neither should we assume that he is lying. I met many extraordinary heroes in my life, and though most of them were motivated by their own interests, there were those few that sought righteousness for its own sake. If you jump to the conclusion that Shirou Emiya must have a hidden motive, then you also choose to ignore the very real possibility that he does not, and that could be just as dangerous. To defeat your enemy, you must understand them, and you cannot do that if you assume that something must be a certain way. This is the Great Holy Grail War. If anything has been proven so far, it is that the impossible is just another word for something that has not yet occurred."

Fiore's brow wrinkled in concern. It was ridiculous. She'd learned from grandfather, from her time at the Clock Tower, even from herself, that mages were focused solely on their own self-interest. Everyone was an enemy, right down to their own children in some cases. They couldn't allow for anything else if they were to survive the myriad dangers of the world and their competitors machinations. To be the ones to win the coveted race to Akasha and achieve True Magic. Mages killed and stole, played political games for decades for the sole purpose of bringing about the complete ruin of another mage so that they could take over their work.

No one was ever who they said they were.

But a mage was, first and foremost, a researcher. It was what she loved about it, the mystery, the exploration, the knowledge that her next trial could lead to bold new discoveries. And any good researcher knew that they couldn't allow preexisting prejudices to muddle their findings.

Shirou Emiya seemed honest and she could see no evidence from his actions that he wasn't being truthful about his intentions. That didn't necessarily mean he wasn't simply a master of deception, but discarding the possibility that he was as good as he claimed to be left her just as vulnerable to being blindsided when she betrayed his expectations of her.

And, if no one was who they said they were, then that would mean she couldn't trust her own brother.

"Thank you, Archer," she grinned gratefully. "I have to remember not to let this war make me paranoid."

There was no answer.

"Archer?" she asked, turning around.

There was no sign of him. No indication that he'd ever been there.

She was alone.

For a moment, she thought she heard a child's laughter amidst the deathly silence, but it was gone in an instant.

Without even a creak for a warning, the rooftop she was standing on caved in, and she was suddenly in the alley below. She'd fallen from her wheelchair and it had landed several feet away.

It took far too long for her to pull herself over to it. As much as she had tried to avoid it, her arms and legs were covered in mud. As she was righting the chair however, she paused for a moment.

It was still unnaturally quiet, but…

She could hear something. She pushed her wheelchair back up, some extra effort was needed to make sure it didn't slide around, and listened carefully.

It was too indistinct.

Wiping some of the mud off her hands, on the side of her already ruined shirt, she slowly wheeled herself closer, the horribly uneven and muddy ground making it altogether too difficult to go anywhere without having to put all her strength into it. It unnerved her that the entire world was silent as a graveyard except for that strange noise.

Some sort of snarling? An animal? No, it was almost rhythmic.

She was getting closer to it, but if there was any danger, she had a potent means of defending herself.

Fiore reached a corner and realized that part of it was a voice. Someone whimpering.

She forced her chair towards it, turning the corner and found the source of the sound. And she clamped a hand over her mouth.

It was a girl, bent over, one of her wrists held back behind her by a hideous looking man whose other hand was curled around her neck. The front and back of her dress were slit open.

What she had interpreted as a growl was just his breathing as he… as he thrust into her.

The girl's face was half turned towards Fiore, her red-rimmed eyes those of someone who regretted being alive, the same way one might regret committing a crime. Her face was tear streaked, but she wasn't crying anymore, like she had run out.

"Please…" she croaked. To call it a whimper was generous. "Please stop… Please…stop."

"Lousy bitch!" the man twisted her arm until there was a nauseating snap, and the girl screamed. "Yer sister wuz better'n you!"

"You said…you wouldn't touch her…" for a moment, the girl looked like she might try to fight back, but another thrust and his other hand tightening around her throat put a stop to that. "You said if I just…"

"Shut it, you fucking—"

"Leave her alone!"

The man looked up from his victim and leered at Fiore in a way that made her skin crawl. Even still, she did not regret her shout for an instant.

The grin on his face was sadistic in a way that didn't even make sense. Fiore had accidentally seen Celenike doing some very twisted things with a doll and a knife, but this man was very literally getting off to telling the girl he was raping that he'd done the same to her sister, after she had apparently _allowed_ him do this to her under the promise that he would leave said sister alone. Fiore felt her rational thoughts fleeing her mind with what remained threatening to make her violently ill.

Moreover, the girl barely reacted. Like this wasn't okay, but that it was somehow the way things were supposed to be. _That_ was the part of this picture that made Fiore want to scream; it was horrific, yet was somehow it was supposedly _right!_

And she wasn't going to let it continue for another microsecond!

"Get your hands away from her, you disgusting ogre!" she held out her right arm.

The man chuckled, a deep gravel like the monster out of a storybook.

"An' wot are you going to do if oi say no?"

"You should be _very_ afraid of the answer to that question," she snarled.

"O' course, o' course. Because a bird in a wheelchair is going to bea' me in a figh'." he sneered.

"A fight would suggest that you stood a chance. This is closer to an execution. Now let her go _or else!_ "

"Sure thing, li''le bird."

He pulled out, kicked the girl forward, yanked her back by her hair, and drove his fist into the side of her jaw. Several teeth flew into the mud and the girl collapsed.

The man started approaching her.

She gave him a chance, and he'd made his choice. He had no one to blame but himself for this. She made a gesture with her right arm.

"Whuzzat supposed to be? Casting a magic spell, are we?"

Fiore looked at her right arm and realized with mounting terror that her Bronze Link Manipulator was gone. _She hadn't taken it off! It couldn't possibly have just vanished! What the hell was happening?!_ "

She knew other magecraft, but she wouldn't be able to use it without getting her magic circuits fixed. And the man started towards her.

"Oh god…"

There was no escape. She couldn't get away without help, and it was dawning on her just how spectacular her error in judgement was.

She blinked and the grotesque man was suddenly right in front of her.

—too frightened to move—

"H-How—" she was cut off as he grabbed her by the throat.

—too frightened to focus—

"Ah'll tell you wot, li''le bird, ah'm goin' to do to you what I did to ' _er_ …"

—too frightened even to scream—

"Bot when I'm done with you, oi think ah'll take you to meet one o' moi maits, an' you can entertain the both of us. An' we'll keep ye like the li''le bird you are. In a caige. O'couse, you'll be bent over like a dog for us mos' o' the toime, so maybe I'll coll ye puppy, instead o' li''le bird. 'ow's that sound?"

This…

This couldn't be happening…

This couldn't be…

 _Couldn't be!_

That was it!

This was nonsensical… there was no way for her to be in Victorian London! There was no way she could lose her own mystic code!

This _wasn't_ real! It was a nightmare!

"Indeed it is, li''le bird. But who wos it tha' said tha' noigh'mares can't 'urt ya?"

He couldn't have…

"It don't ma''er o' course. Because _the whole world_ is a noigh'mare, doncha know? Ye jus' don' loike it tha' way yet."

She gasped, the pressure around her throat barely allowing her to breathe. How could this be happening? How could she be this _utterly pathetic?!_ She was a mage! Not a helpless little girl!

And yet… even with the realization that this couldn't be reality… she still couldn't do anything about it.

She couldn't even see her Command Seals where they were supposed to be on the back of her hand.

Her Command Seals?

But… if this was a nightmare… then she most certainly still had them!

Terror turned to defiance in an instant.

"I told you you should have been frightened of the answer to that question," she growled, barely getting air into her lungs.

 _'Come to me, Archer. On this command seal, appear at my side and kill this obscenity!'_

" _Of course, Master."_

The troglodyte's grip on her went slack and she fell into the mud as several arrows punched clear through his head with a splatter of blood and brain matter. Far more than there logically should have been.

Fiore shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself as Chiron carefully picked her up and placed her back in her chair. A quick bit of magecraft on her Servant's part cleaned the filth off her clothes and dried them.

"Master, I am so sorry," Chiron hurriedly apologized, his normally calm face shaken. "I looked away for an instant and suddenly you were—"

"It's alright, Archer. That… was…" she couldn't even finish the sentence. She felt violated just having been near that disgusting caricature of a human being. That he touched her at all was enough to give her goosebumps. How much worse must that poor girl be feeling, having actually been… urgh… she could barely stand the thought of it.

She worked a few more shivers out of her system. She felt sick. The brute's face was going to poison her thoughts for weeks if she didn't have something done about it. She'd ask if she could have her memory altered later, but for now, there was someone who was in far worse condition than herself.

"Miss? Are you alright?" she asked, carefully rolling her wheelchair over to the victim. "I promise, you're safe now."

The girl stirred, but it took a few moments for her to come to her senses. When she did, she looked around.

"Where… where is he? Why would you make him leave?"

Tears welled in her eyes.

…What?

Fiore's attempt at a disarming smile melted away, the same unease she had felt when she had first approached the scene beginning to creep over her again.

"I don't understand. He was attacking you. Why would you-"

"Because that's all I have…"

All of a sudden, she was on her feet, pointing at Fiore, her eyes wild with crazed tears. "Liar! _LIAR!_ " What have you done?! I… everything I was… could have been… You—You've r-ruined _everything!_ You had no right! To spew something as hideous as there being other reasons to exist… there is only cruelty and _suffering_! There isn't anything in this world more vile than something like you!"

Fiore nearly tumbled out of her wheelchair again as she tried to put some distance between herself and the screaming young woman.

"I have nothing left! N-Nothing!" the girl proclaimed and ran from the alley. "No suffering, no agony… I might as well just die."

Fiore blinked, and she was suddenly outside the alley, looking down an empty street as the girl scrambled into the road as though to get further away. In an instant, a horse and buggy materialized beside her, and before Fiore could so much as react, there was a sickening crunch as the girl was all but splattered across the cobblestones like jelly, the spray of blood slapping her across the face and painting most of her right side—and all exposed parts of her wheelchair—red.

Against her better judgment, she looked down at the remains.

That… that was a mistake.

Fiore fought the urge to vomit and failed, pushing herself out of her chair and rolling herself over just quickly enough to avoided throwing up on herself. She gagged, her stomach heaving painfully. Archer came around her side and held her steady in his arms.

…At least she wasn't crying.

"What…" she choked, " _What the hell is wrong with this place?"_

"I suspect that this is how Assassin perceives the world," Archer surmised, his calm returned but with a firm scowl in place.

"A world—" her voice caught in her throat as bile filled her mouth. She spat it into the rest of the half-digested mess. "A world like this? A world with only these… horrors? I won't accept that. _I refuse!_ This isn't reality—it's a caricature! …All the hideous things here are gratuitously represented, designed to… to fit a violent playground meant only for a psychopath who's never actually seen the world!" One eye welled up as the girl's blood dripped into it and she wiped it away, leaving a streak across her face, and a stain on her sleeve.

"I wholeheartedly agree, Master. Be rest assured that there is no need for you to accept anything of the sort," Archer soothed her. "Our world is not without it horrors, but this place has distilled them, focused them, removed all the light that would stand against it. It is Assassin's hunting ground, and no more."

"If this is our Assassin, then Emiya was right. I don't care if Grandfather punishes me, this Servant needs to be eliminated."

She noticed Archer wasn't actually looking at her anymore, staring instead into the fog, tapping one finger against his chin in thought.

"Is something the matter, Archer?"

"No, Master. Your concern is appreciated, but fortunately not necessary. It is merely that I find myself wondering how a person would even develop a frame of mind that dictates a world such as this," he muttered. "Perhaps it is less about them deserving to suffer, and more that they must exist to be tortured and murdered, and it is not merely wrong, but anathema for them to have any other purpose."

"Honestly, I couldn't care less about how they arrived at this conclusion, but if your hypothesis is even partially correct, I think it can be definitively established that our Assassin is a liability for its obscene and generally nonsensical interpretation of reality, and can't be trusted under even the most exceptional circumstances. We'll need to change our objective to reflect that. Archer, if we encounter Assassin in this," she paused, "…nightmare, your orders are to eliminate it. We'll locate and apprehend its Master after the fact."

The Bronze-Link Manipulator was suddenly on her arm. She didn't waste a second activating it, springing up from the ground and into the grasp of the four mechanical arms.

Archer gave her an odd look.

"Are you sure you're alright, Fiore?" he asked.

"Y-Yes. Can I ask what your concern is?" It was odd enough that he was using her real name. Why was he giving her such a strange look?

"Fiore, I would consider it highly unwise for you to immediately enter combat after experiencing what you just did."

Fiore clenched her fist. She could still feel that ogre's hands on her, but she banished the phantom sensations with a shake of her head. No harm had come to her. There was nothing to fear in this place: It was all just an appallingly sick joke.

"We don't have the luxury of time right now. As things stand, it's not guaranteed that I'll run into an enemy at all."

Chiron shook his head.

"You cannot hide your intentions from me, Master. I can tell that you expect to be met with resistance. Were you in top form, I've no doubt you would be fully capable of surviving anything the enemy could muster and emerging victorious." Any joy from the compliment was dampened by the context. He continued. "However, you just witnessed an act of violation and depravity of a type you had never attempted to comprehend before. Do you mean to tell me that you'll be unhindered by that?"

"No," she answered. "I don't think that at all. However, I have no other options. This is a Holy Grail War. I have only two choices: I can fight, or I can die."

All around them, it seemed as though their surroundings were laughing at her new resolution, a chorus of childish giggles chiming throughout the fog, the eerie echo of the night setting her hairs on edge.

The concern in the Servant's eyes suddenly vanished. His bow appeared in his grip, and in the time it took her to blink, he used it to deflect a trio of arrows that would have surely killed her.

"It seems we have run out of time," he noted calmly with a shake of his head, returning his bow to its proper grip and nocking an arrow.

Fiore tensed, pushing a sudden sensation of terror to the back of her mind. She couldn't afford to let herself get distracted. "How many?"

"I cannot say for certain. This place is interfering with my ability to sense their magical energy," Chiron informed her. "That said, I believe Saber of Red would have charged in already if she were nearby. I find it more likely that we only face Archer of Red on the rooftops and Kairi Shishigou on the ground."

Fiore nodded. She could already see a large shadow lumbering out from the fog, vaguely reminiscent of the intelligence photos of the deadly mage mercenary. This would not be an easy battle.

"Can you defeat Archer before Saber arrives?"

"If she is having as much difficulty navigating this haze as we are, most likely," he smiled at her reassuringly. "Worry not, Master. Though it might be shrouded by this fog, Sagittarius still shines in the night sky."

Fiore nodded, a faint smile that just barely reached her eyes flashing across her face only to be replaced by one of fierce determination just as quickly. Indeed, she had been lucky to have summoned such a kind and wise Servant. They were far from safe, but they were not without hope either. "Good luck, Archer."

"And to you, Master," he replied. "I'll attempt to keep the battle close, in case Saber arrives."

Fiore nodded, and Chiron leapt onto the rooftops, the whistling of arrows joining the hellish moans of their environment.

No sooner had the sage departed than Kairi Shishigou emerged from the fog. He looked just like his photos. Muscled, rugged, with three scars over his left eye that a pair of sunglasses did nothing to hide. He plucked a lit cigarette from his mouth and tossed it onto the rundown cobblestone streets, careful to avoid striking the many abandoned carts and scrap wood along the sides.

"So," he began looking her and her weapons over. "This madhouse your doing?"

"No," Fiore declared, managing to force herself to stay calm for the moment. "This bounded field was created by Assassin. I had no part in this nightmare's creation and I'm offended by the mere suggestion that I could be."

"Shame. Was hoping you'd know the way out." Shishigou sighed. "Well then, I'm guessing we can skip the introductions."

"Fine by me," Fiore concurred. "We most likely both know each other's names already. However, you don't mind if I give you a warning first, do you?"

"A warning?" Shishigou glanced about their hellish surroundings in disbelief before shrugging. "Sure. Why not?"

Fiore was grateful. While the idea of giving a warning in their current environment was admittedly more than a little ridiculous, it was a method of solidifying her resolve. After all, if she gave her opponent a chance to back out and they didn't take it, it might alleviate some of the guilt their death would place on her shoulders. Besides, in their current surroundings, with rapists lurking in the alleys, women's corpses laying in the streets, the faint but constant giggling of children, and the glowing eyes watching them from the shadows, she couldn't afford to get distracted by anything.

"I suggest you leave this place!" she announced. "This town is now under the cont—ugh… never mind."

"Yeah," Shishigou remarked sympathetically. He opened his arms and gestured around them. "Not much I can do to leave this city anymore. What's with that look? Did you have some sort of speech prepared for this?"

"I might have made a few notes," Fiore confessed, somewhat reluctantly. She had spent several hours going over the warning, discarding draft after draft, even asking Caules if any of his movies or comics had any good excerpts she could use, but in the end, she had kept it simple. It had been designed with the express purpose of intimidating the enemy into backing down—whether by intimidation or a brief show of force—even if the likelihood of success wasn't particularly high. Anything to reduce the chances of her needing to murder someone. But it was worthless in this den of insanity.

"Don't get so down on yourself. I'm sure it was great," Shishigou offered.

"Thank you…?" she answered, feeling rather uncertain about the other mage's intent.

For a ruthless mercenary who dressed like some unruly biker, Mr. Shishigou had excellent manners. It was a shame that they were in opposing roles.

The thought of killing him made her want to throw up again, but after everything she had just been subjected to, she nevertheless felt a powerful urge to hurt something. She couldn't decide if she was dreading what was about to happen or looking forward to it.

It really didn't matter though.

This was a war, and he was on the opposite side. One way or another, someone was almost certainly going to die.

Somewhere in the city, a funeral bell pealed twelve times.

And as it rang, she somehow knew that one of those grim chimes was meant for her.

She resolved to prove it wrong. She wouldn't die. Not tonight. And not in a disgusting place like this. If that bell was indeed ringing for her, she'd see to it that the funeral got postponed indefinitely.

* * *

 **FATEFATEFATEFATE**

Kairi considered what it said about his life that fighting a paraplegic teenaged girl with mechanical arms sprouting from her back in a nightmarish facsimile of Victorian London _wasn't_ in the top three of strangest things to ever happen to him. Top five maybe, but it sure didn't beat out the job he did with the Mage Killer.

Granted, perhaps that was a factor in why he wasn't nearly as unsettled by his current surroundings as he should have been. While being in a city crawling with wraiths was never a situation a person wanted to be in, he'd been practicing necromancy more than long enough to be confident in his ability to see them coming.

Though since these were apparently wraiths that came out of a Servant, he didn't want to take any chances. And with Archer dealing with her opposite number, that left him with only one option.

 _'Hey? You there, Saber?'_

"██████!"

…

"Alright… I'll call back later."

Well that was out. He could summon her with a Command Seal, but he didn't want to use one before he really needed to. He only had three after all, and despite whatever eerie noises he could hear coming from the alleyways and darker shadows, the wraiths he had sensed were all headed somewhere else… _drawn_ to _something_ else. Where or what, he didn't know, but he wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth, especially when he had other problems.

Clock Tower intel was sketchy about a lot of stuff, but one of the few details it was clear on was that Fiore Forvedge was Yggdmillennia's second most competent mage after their leader Darnic himself. Possibly more so. And no matter how much they made her look like a certain comic book supervillain, those Bronze-Link Manipulators of hers were a powerful mystic code, equal to the El-Melloi family's Volumen Hydrargyrum in some capabilities, and even surpassing it in others.

He never would have guessed it just by looking at her. On all accounts, she seemed like a sweet kid, almost adorable even when she was trying to be intimidating with that warning of hers. Kind of reminded him of his owndaughter. It was a shame he had to kill her.

But hey, that was war, and he was a mercenary. He wasn't hired to make friends.

A head-on confrontation was out of the question. He'd increased and diversified his arsenal after he'd found out about Emiya, but that didn't mean he could wrestle robot arms powered by what seemed to be the spirits of dead animals. If he could get close for a few moments, he might have been able to exorcize the things, but he doubted he'd be given the time. He'd set up more than a few explosive surprises behind him, so he could retreat if necessary, but if the Periwinkle Faction was caught up in this like Mordred suspected, he wanted to save them for the Mage Killer's successor.

His only advantage in this fight was that he was more experienced. As dangerous as Fiore looked, he could tell she'd never been in a real fight. At best, she'd think like a mage; what spells she could use, or how to keep him from casting his own. Not a bad plan, but hardly the whole picture.

Kairi had been in more fights than he could count, and he'd never been too impressive of a mage. Necromancer, yes, but there was a reason the Clock Tower only called him a spellcaster. He didn't even study the art anymore… there wasn't really much of a point to it now.

Still he had never gone for big fancy masterpieces of magecraft, preferring simple, practical tricks that could save his hide when it counted. Add this to his knack for using his environment—which had given him plenty of options here, what with the rampant fog and piles of lumber—to his advantage, and he was feeling pretty safe about his chances.

Especially since the girl hadn't seen fit to instantly destroy the cigarette he'd tossed away.

He whispered an incantation and the dying light suddenly sparked up into a sizable flame. It was only a moment before the stub itself burned up, but the momentary flame was still more than enough to light up the surrounding wreckage, which quickly erupted into a massive bonfire. Catching the flames out of the corner of her eye, Fiore's attention was momentarily drawn toward the conflagration.

In that moment of distraction, Kairi broke into a run to the right of the street and whipped out his weapons. Without a second's hesitation, he fired a pair of _gandr_ infused fingers from his shotgun and tossed one of his heart grenades right after. He took cover behind the corner of an alley as Fiore gathered her wits about herself and focused on the incoming threats.

…and suddenly he was behind her?

She turned her head at the sound of his footsteps.

"Didn't plan for that," he muttered. "The hell's going on in this place?"

"Jupiter, defend," she commanded calmly. The upper left arm of her mystic code swept out and swatted the _gandr_ fingers from the air, the projectiles bouncing harmlessly into the fire behind her.

Her eyes caught the heart grenade a moment later, widening in terror as she realized what it was. Kairi took the time to pull the pin from another grenade and tossed it towards the girl, reloading his shotgun at the same time.

"Saturn, crush it!" Fiore shouted. One of her lower arms reached forward and did just that, squashing the heart bomb to paste before it's curse could activate. She pushed off the walls she had stationed herself between before the other grenade could detonate. She shot a glare his way as she gave another order. "Saturn, pursue. Mars, open fire!"

Kairi ducked just as the upper right arm unleashed a hail of _prana_ bullets at him, just barely managing to take cover around the nearest corner. The only things keeping his head on his shoulders were his instincts, honed by years of combat experience.

"Dammit!" he growled, "Those arms just have everything, don't they."

She continued shooting, her attacks shattering bricks and splintering wood. The second she let up, he jumped out from his cover and made a break for the next side-street. Which put him… on top of the Tower Bridge?

"Seriously?" he grumbled. Well, at least he had a good view of the city now.

He could see the Archers fighting one another relatively nearby, and Mordred's lightning was coming from an indistinct part of the city, yet for some reason, he could see it elsewhere—on the opposite side of the city, no less. The eerie childish laughter was less audible from so high up, but now he could hear the wailing of frightened young women and injured men.

There was a trap door right underneath him and a quick look at what was on the other side revealed a pit full of what appeared to be knives.

"Riiiight…"

This place made no sense, and he had a feeling that Assassin was all-but micromanaging this fight to disorient or kill the both of them without even appearing to be present.

Fiore materialized out of the fog, but not moving in his direction, instead, her mechanical arms nearly sent her careening off the edge of the roof. Had she not managed to make a partial recovery at the last moment, she would have fallen to her death into the Thames. As things stood, she was only holding onto the tower by one arm. He saw his chance and he took it, but two of her arms immediately began shooting at him the moment he showed his face, while the remaining one punched itself into the masonry. She began climbing back up to his level, managing to thrust herself upwards with enough momentum to get solid precipice on the roof with him in a matter of seconds.

He dove out of the way as the mechanical appendages crashed down where he'd been standing, suddenly realizing just how much trouble he was in. Two of those arms had just dug into solid stonework and he was on a rooftop, with only so much room to maneuver. And unlike her, he couldn't just climb down with a bunch of metal arms. The fog began to thicken around them again, and the sounds of Fiore's Bronze-Link Manipulator were suddenly gone.

If it hadn't been for the telltale scent of ozone and the crackle of electricity, his head would have been cleaved from his shoulders, just barely managing to dodge as Mordred's greatsword passed right over his head, so close that he could feel the static electricity passing by him.

"Saber! What the hell was that?! You could've killed me!" he shouted. Mordred seemed completely unaware of him, and continued charging through the dense fog, the both of them back on the ground. "Saber! Can you hear me?!"

The fog surged in again, and the next thing he knew, he was being shot at again, Fiore right in front of him.

"I don't know about you, but I'm getting kind of sick of being jerked around from one place to another," he growled, taking a few glancing hits as he quickly retreated down the road. He fired back, not bothering to aim, the fingers' heat seeking would handle that. Though with the arms' defenses, he wasn't exactly expecting it to do very much, but if he was lucky the gunfire would divert her attention.

Pulling a third heart-grenade from his coat, he tossed it backwards, letting it roll towards Fiore. She saw organ coming and immediately took evasive action, getting away from the explosive. Meanwhile, he fired his shotgun again, seemingly haphazardly. But there was a grimace of certainty on his face.

He'd just won.

Fiore narrowed her eyes at the approaching _gandr_ rounds. "Jupiter, defen—ah!"

She had assumed the third grenade he'd thrown was another of his heart grenades—a weapon with a limited blast radius that inflicted a gas containing a _gandr_ curse. But the truth was that it was a lot easier to stuff a fragmentation grenade inside a human heart than most people thought, and those things had a much larger blast range than his usual armaments. They weren't of much use against his usual targets, so he didn't normally carry them, but with an Emiya in play he'd decided to think outside the box. A decision that launched Fiore Forvedge Yggdmilennia flying through the air, both her and her mystic code landing in a heap a few feet away from the wood fire on the side of the street.

He took aim just as she was picking herself up.

"Sorry, kid," he said, "End of the line."

Her eyes widened in terror just in time for him to pull the trigger.

Such a waste. A waste of talent, of human life, of his damn ammunition. He had better things to do than kill little girls.

Once had already been too many.

And he moment he thought that, the world turned into something entirely different. The fog swirled around them and all of a sudden, he wasn't in London anymore. Instead, he was in the basement of a house he rarely returned to anymore. And in Fiore's place, screaming in agony as something burned her from the inside out was—

" **Rho Aias!** "

Kairi's eyes widened in shock as the fog returned, the scene melting away as four… petals? Four petals of pink energy flared to life in the air before Fiore. The fingers he'd shot attempted to course-correct to avoid the new barrier but were simply too close to avoid doing anything but splattering harmlessly against the shield.

"What the hell?" the mercenary muttered, instantly shooting back to his feet. Fiore was looking just as baffled as he was, so she certainly wasn't responsible. Kairi quickly reloaded his shotgun and whirled around to where the voice had come from, one of the rooftops on Fiore's side of the street, where stood…

"Emiya!" Fiore gasped.

Kairi scowled. The redheaded boy he had met at Sighisoara held out his arm to the open air, magic circuits glowing turquoise under his shirt. He reinforced his legs and leapt down from the roof, standing between Kairi and Fiore.

There was something different about him. Perhaps it was the situation, but back at the church, he'd been genial, smiling. A perfectly polite young man. Now… now he was all business, his body rigid and tall, yet loose enough to drop into a fighting stance at any second.

And his eyes… there was fire in them, a steady, uncompromising blaze, unwilling to back down or give in, utterly focused on the task before him. If Kiritsugu had been a cold, empty machine, this boy was a custom job, filled with limitless passion. But ultimately, he was still a machine. It was an intriguing difference, if no less unsettling.

"This fight is over," he stated with finality, the pink shield he'd erected in front of Fiore fading from the air. "We have no idea what this place is, and if you two waste time and energy trying to kill each other, you can bet that none of us will make it out of here."

"Waste time?" Kairi repeated. "You _do_ realize we're here for the express purpose of killing each other, right, kid? Just because one of the Servants pulls a creepy magic trick doesn't mean the war's postponed."

"It does now," Shirou shot back with a wry grin that quickly disappeared. "I'm not letting either of you kill each other. By all means, you can try, but I can guarantee that unless you're hiding a Noble Phantasm in your jacket, you'll be wasting your energy. So put down your weapon, call back your Servants, and let's all get out of this mess to fight another day, alright?"

Fight another day? This was getting ridiculous. As much as the kid was trying to dress it all up with pragmatism, the necromancer could tell he wasn't that worried about Assassin. For all that the world around them was unnerving, the kid was allied with a Servant that could apparently go toe to toe with Lancer of Red and Saber of Black at the same time. They wouldn't be taken down by a Servant with not even two hundred years to their legend.

But at the same time, he couldn't figure out for the life of him what his motivation actually was. If he was as brutally pragmatic as the last Emiya that Kairi had met, he wouldn't have bothered preventing him from shooting Fiore. Hell, Kiritsugu would have shot him in the back while he was still focused on the Yggdmillennia girl, and would no doubt have had another bullet with her name on it, just to ensure there was no chance of her surviving the cursed fingers.

But this Emiya did the exact opposite, instead preserving the girl and giving up whatever advantage he could have had to catch them both unawares. The only theory Kairi had that might have explained his confounding actions was a desire to use them as shields against Assassin in case they pulled something unexpected out, but even that didn't seem right.

Fiore's robotic arms slowly picked her back up, the girl taking deep breaths as she glared at Kairi. "Thank you for the assistance, Shirou Emiya. But I cannot retreat from this battle."

"Why are all mages so stubborn?" Shirou muttered. He glared at the both of them. "We're in some sort of bounded field that's invoked what I can only describe as a twisted hallucinatory version of Victorian London, with Jack the Ripper after all our heads, and you two want to fight each other? We need to consolidate our Servants and finish it now before it gets away and kills even more people!"

Kairi wasn't sure if he imagined it or not, but the moment Emiya stopped talking, the fog around him seemed to shift again. Just for a moment, it wasn't the gloom filled streets of London shown in the mist, but a wasteland of corpses, obliterated buildings, splotches of strange black mud. But what stood out more than anything was the fire. It looked like an ordinary inner-city fire, and yet somehow, it was unlike anything he'd ever seen before. Somehow, for that singular moment, the entire world was burning.

The necromancer had seen some horrifying things in his life, but he was extremely disturbed to find himself grateful that the environment almost instantly shifted _back_ the serial killer's hideous playground. He would have been more so if Fiore's stricken, white-faced expression hadn't confirmed that what he'd seen was not a hallucination.

"Do you understand?" Shirou demanded, seeming not to have noticed the spectral image that had flickered around him, nor the fire that blazed behind him and Fiore. "Call back your Servants from wherever they are. We can find the rest of my allies and figure out how to get out of here."

That shook Kairi out of his slump. He thrashed his head about to clear the fear from his head and locked his gaze onto the redhead.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to decline that offer," he shouted, taking several cautious steps backward. "Nothing personal, but I'd rather not put my fate in the hands of someone connected to the Mage Killer."

"Mage Killer?" Shirou murmured, his brow furrowed in confusion. "I don't know who you think I am, but I can tell you for certain that you've got the wrong guy. I wouldn't know anyone you do."

"Really?" Kairi inquired sarcastically, hoping that the mystic fog wouldn't turn him around too badly since he was still close to where he needed to go. "So, you're not Kiritsugu Emiya's apprentice?"

"What?" Shirou exclaimed, the young man's amber eyes widening as his confident demeanor evaporated in an instant. "How the hell do you know the old man?"

Kairi didn't bother to answer, instead capitalizing on the man's moment of confusion to fire another pair of fingers downrange and book it in the other direction.

He heard the rounds bounce off something and he could hear the rapid footsteps of someone chasing after him, meaning his glancing shot had done all of nothing. Fair enough, he hadn't expected it to. Anyone that could throw up something like that pink energy shield in an instant wouldn't be too troubled to do it again. For once, he was thankful for the blasted fog, Fiore could have shot him in the back as he ran if it weren't for the mist obscuring her aim.

But he wasn't far enough away to completely escape pursuit. Even with the blasted bounded field turning every alley and street in a labyrinth, Shirou Emiya was too close behind him to lose immediately, even if the lack of mechanical accompaniment meant Yggdmillennia had likely stayed back. He really didn't want to fight the redhead, especially since his reaction confirmed he had some relation to Kiritsugu. He wasn't anxious to test his luck going up against a fighter trained by the Mage Killer who had seen all his tricks already.

Well, not all of them, but certainly too many.

He came upon a building he recognized, and after checking to make sure his 'surprise' was still where he'd left it, figured it would be his best shot at coming out of this mess alive. There was no doubt in his mind that he needed to kill this kid _now_ , if at all possible. Before he became a much bigger problem later in the war.

* * *

 **FATEFATEFATEFATE**

"Wait! Come back!" Shirou shouted, dissipating the hoplon of King Leonidas he had used to deflect the scarred mage's parting shot, and charging down the alley he'd escaped through.

"Shirou, wait!" Fiore called. "Kairi Shishigou is dangerous!"

It was nice to know his current adversary cared enough to warn him, but Shirou still didn't pause as he rocketed down the misty street. Not only did he want to keep the man safe from the unsettling spirits that he could hear snickering throughout the fog, but he'd been more than a bit terrified when the mist had flickered and just for a moment, he'd seen the Fuyuki Fire. He didn't know how this place was doing that, but he couldn't let someone else potentially get sucked into it.

Besides, this Kairi Shishigou… he knew Kiritsugu. Maybe not _his_ Kiritsugu, but _a_ Kiritsugu. From what he'd seen so far of this alternate world, with the exception of matters pertaining to the Grail War, everything was pretty much the same. Thus, it stood to reason that this world's version of his father would be similar to the man he'd known, the man who'd given him his ideals; his dream to be a hero. And while he'd never been particularly curious about his father's life before they'd met, something that Shishigou said disturbed him.

Mage Killer…

He'd heard rumors in the Clock Tower of a legendary assassin, a long dead mercenary of unparalleled ruthlessness and efficiency. When the Mage's Association's best Enforcers couldn't break through a target's defenses, they called him in, and he annihilated anything and anyone in his way before always securing the kill using any means necessary—specifically, those that the Enforcers wouldn't use because they were worried about their status in the Association's political hierarchy. The Mage Killer, on the other hand, wouldn't hesitate to use methods that got him labeled as a heretic. Countless people, innocent and guilty, had lost their lives at his hands. Shirou had managed to study a few of the Association's reports of this demon's activities, the handful that Luvia had been able to get her hands on for him. It only made sense to examine them considering he could be faced with such an opponent.

That was what he told Luvia, of course. The truth was that he figured that he himself might find himself in similar situations one day in his quest to become a Hero of Justice. He needed to try and discern how he could do better, to save more people. But if Kiritsugu had been this mercenary…

No. That was absurd. He'd known Kiritsugu. Yes, he was friends with the local Yakuza boss, but he didn't do anything illegal or immoral, unless one counted his abysmal presence in the kitchen (which Shirou was admittedly tempted to do). Kiritsugu was as unlike a normal mage as was possible. He was spaced out, clumsy, he played around like a child. Hell, half the reason he got along so well with Taiga was that he was the only one who could keep up with her exuberance most of the time.

He was his father. And the time he'd spent with him, the five years between the fire and the old man's death, were probably the best times of his life. He couldn't be this Mage Killer. No one who had instilled his ideals in him, who had granted him his dream to be a hero, could possibly be some hired assassin. He had to figure out what this was all about.

Assassin's mist was clouding his _prana_ sensitivity, but fortunately, while Shishigou was likely in excellent shape, Shirou was much younger and therefore able to keep up with the scarred man, keeping him within sight at all times. He had a feeling if he lost him for even an instant in this fog, he'd never find him again.

The mercenary ducked inside one of the two story buildings that lined the broken streets, tossing something behind him as he dashed through the rotting wooden door. Shirou hopped back from the item, a deep red human heart. Knowing exactly what the strange armament did from Saber's report on the fighting at Sighisoara, he immediately traced a counter.

Since obtaining Archer's arsenal, he had spent every night investigating the infinite horde of weaponry, cataloging every blade and tool he found for further use. Most of what he found was not too helpful, nameless knives and dulling swords. Apparently, even when an armory was unlimited, most of it was still junk. And unlike the Counter Guardian, Shirou didn't have Eye of the Mind to automatically sift through the unhelpful stuff. Thus, he tended to only bother remembering the few score Noble Phantasms he'd found so far. He was sure there were thousands more, but he hadn't encountered them yet, and he could hardly trace something if he didn't know what he was supposed to be trying to create.

Fortunately, the Noble Phantasms that Archer had used most frequently in his career as a Counter Guardian had floated to the top of the Reality Marble, so to say. Among them, Hrunting, the Hound of the Red Plains, one of the swords wielded by the hero Beowolf that would unfailingly find its target and land the optimal slash as long as it had tasted a target's blood once before. That one would not be particularly useful against a gas grenade that needed to be crushed before it went off, but fortunately, the tracking sword was partnered with another blade in legend that Shirou had immediately searched for in the Reality Marble. He'd found it, though it was far less a sword than a club made of steel.

" _Trace on_."

Naegling, the Iron Hammer, flashed into Shirou's hands, for he needed both to heft the cumbersome instrument, and, letting gravity assist him as much as possible, he smashed the sword into the cursed heart, rendering it useless and shattering the cobblestones underneath.

"How did you do that?"

Shirou jumped at the sudden voice behind him, dissipating Beowolf's weapon for the more versatile Kanshou and Bakuya. His eyebrow rose at the person he found before him, unsure if he should feel threatened or not.

A little girl with pale hair, her body so thin she could be nothing else but starved, stood before him, a filthy sack substituting for any clothing she might have worn. Her sunken, dead eyes stared forward at him, the curious tilt in her head preventing her from appearing completely stoic.

Was she some innocent street urchin who had gotten caught in Assassin's field? Was she part of the spell itself? Either way, it did him no good to elaborate on his abilities.

"Where are your parents, little girl?" he asked carefully, not wanting to startle her if she was some innocent caught up in this mess, but unable to take the chance that she wasn't a trap.

"We're still looking for a mommy," the girl said, her expression still completely unreadable. "How did you do that?"

Shirou narrowed his eyes, keeping his swords at the ready. He could tell something was off about the child before him, but he didn't know if his blades would be able to hurt her. "I don't know what you're—"

"Not the swords," the child spoke again, cutting off his attempted deflection. "The fire. This place is our pain, our prison, our womb from which we can never leave. It is where we are churned and broken, cast down a river of hell. It is _our_ nightmare. Not yours. But you shifted it. Your pain shifted it just for a moment, to the fire, the flames of evil. How?"

Shirou shrugged. "I don't know. But if this place is your hell, then the fire was mine."

"It's not just our hell," the child growled. "It is our existence, our life that never begins."

"I'm sorry," Shirou offered, though his eyes offered no compromise. He was sympathetic to the being that he was now sure was some kind of manifestation of Assassin; he'd been unable to move on from the New City Fire until his encounter with Archer. He knew what it was like to be bogged down to an existence you despised, its grip shadowing your every action. Without Rin and his Heroic Spirit counterpart, he would have never escaped and been able to move forward with his life. He had no doubt that for Assassin, as a Servant influenced by its legend on a fundamental level, it was ten times worse.

But that wasn't an excuse to just kill whoever you wanted. Not remotely.

The child cocked its head to the side, toxic green eyes staring up at him. "You're a strange one. Like us, but not. Were you able to grow up?"

"Yes." Shirou nodded.

"Oh," the child remarked, her face twisting in confusion. "Into what?"

Shirou paused before replying, wondering if he would think of a new explanation, some hidden revelation that would only come in this wondrous moment. Instead, he came up with the same answer he always did.

"A Hero of Justice."

The child frowned. "Justice? They tried to bring us to that. All around, the men with clubs would run through the streets, past the wailing women and starving children, talking lots and lots about us."

Shirou's eyes widened as four more children apparated behind the girl, all with different faces, but each one thin as a bone and dressed in nothing but rags. "They said, _'We must find The Ripper!_ _We must bring The Ripper to justice!'_ "

"They cried on and on about justice," a child with a bandage over their eye proclaimed. "How it was great and everything would be happy again if we got justice."

"But we didn't want to find justice," one with a slashed nose whimpered.

"We just wanted to go back inside mommy," said another with an empty sleeve where he was missing an arm.

The original girl glared at Shirou. "We never saw justice, just like we never saw mommy. Both were swept away down the Thames. Maybe you will be too. Or trampled by a horse."

Shirou cocked an eyebrow. "Huh?"

The thunder of hoofs roared behind him and Shirou dived towards Shishigou's building just before something ran him down. He whirled back around as the specter of a horse drawn carriage charged down the cobblestone street and disappeared into the fog, the children nowhere to be seen.

"Well that's not disturbing at all," he muttered.

He heard children giggling as though in response, and he recognized some of their voices from the group that had just confronted him.

Something else was wrong here though. He'd already been attacked by a girl he saved from being raped, for, of all reasons, not letting it happen. He'd being listening to the screams, and giggling from the shadows. He'd been swept from one place to another by the fog, and…confronted by children speaking as though they were one being. But there was something beyond that.

 _"This place is our pain, our prison, our womb from which we can never leave."_

 _"We just wanted to go back inside mommy."_

…go back…inside?

What could that even mean?

The one missing an arm was the one to say that.

What if he _hadn't_ been missing an arm? What if he was born like that? Back inside… why would a child want to… unless.

"Oh," Shirou muttered with distaste.

If they were aborted, it would make sense that they'd want to go back into their mothers' wombs… but for them to even have that inclination, or much more importantly, the capacity for thought necessary to have it, they would have somehow needed to be kept 'alive' in some sense.

For now, all he could do was guess, but his expectation was that the little girl with the pale hair and green eyes was…

Wait—

If they were all aborted children, and this one deranged spirit had latched on to them, collected them, imprisoned them, turned all of them into a vicious murderer.

And she killed whoever she wanted because this was how she saw the world: A horrid nightmare where good people existed only to be extinguished. Where the police existed to frighten children, and where rapists did whatever they wanted. The air itself was poison. Everything in this place was _sick_. No wonder she thought killing was okay.

Of course, she could have chosen to see the world differently. This was the idea she began with and the idea she ended with, so she never even tried to see any good in the world. So even if she hated everything about this world, she would never want it to change, because that would invalidate her very being. If the world had even the faintest spark of hope in it, this Jack the Ripper couldn't possibly exist. It was fake, just like this world.

Just like him, in a way.

It wasn't human. The kids were, to some extent, but the Ripper wasn't. Like him, it had come to exist from the will of others, the suffering for it, and his father's ideals for him. The only difference was that Kiritsugu hadn't been psychotic.

Turning around, he crept into the rundown building.

The inside was just as wretched and decayed as the rest of the eerie world. The entrance hall was made of rotting wooden planks, the hall breaking off into a few other rooms with a near collapsing stairway leading up to another level. Even within, a layer of mist permeated every inch of the air.

"Shishigou!" Shirou called, keeping Kanshou and Bakuya at the ready. "I don't want to fight you! This place is dangerous!"

"Gee, I hadn't noticed," a crinkling, sarcastic voice shouted down from above. "I thought this was a bounded field full of friendly wraiths, you know. Trying to eat away at our sanity is just their way of saying hello."

Shirou frowned. He didn't have much room to complain, but why was everyone's first response to genuine offers of ceasefire either blustering threats or a sarcastic taunt? Oh well, with his prana sense still compromised, keeping the mercenary talking would make it easier to find him and might even provide him with a few answers.

"Look whatever you have against me, this place is way too dangerous to be alone in," Shirou pointed out as he carefully made his way up the decaying stairs. "We need to stick together."

"Right, which is exactly why you just left the Yggdmillennia girl to fend for herself," Kairi sneered. "Sorry, kid, but I'm not most mages your teacher taught you how to fight. I wouldn't have lasted as long as I have in this business if I was."

Shirou cringed. Leaving Fiore behind hadn't been his best choice. Objectively speaking, it would be safer for both him and her to stick together. But after what Shishigou had said about Kiritsugu, he'd rushed after him without thinking.

He made it to the upper level, gazing all around to keep from being blindsided. "How come you think Kiritsugu Emiya was the Mage Killer? He wasn't capable of being someone like that. Whoever told you he was lied."

A deep chuckle emanated from a nearby room, two weathered doors providing a hint of vision within. "Don't know what Kiritsugu Emiya you knew, kid, but I'm guessing he was somewhat nicer to you than anybody else. Somehow."

Shirou narrowed his eyes as he advanced on the room. He pressed most of his body against the outer wall and peaked into the room through the minuscule cracks in one of the doors. He couldn't see much but managed to catch a hint of Kairi's black leather jacket.

"Why do you think that?" he called out, just to make sure there was actually someone in the room. "Because of some rumors?"

"Because I met him."

Shirou flinched despite himself.

"It was a job to take down a real sick bastard the Association had been after for a while," Shishigou continued. "By the time your old man was done with him, he wasn't human. Humans… they don't die like he did. And Kiritsugu, he didn't even blink. He annihilated the guy's defenses and turned his body into mush and all he did was pop another cigarette into his mouth."

"You're lying," Shirou refuted, failing to keep the rising anger out of his voice even as he circled around to the other door to flank the mercenary. "Kiritsugu… he wanted to be a hero."

"Strange definition of hero. I kept track of him after we went our separate ways, figured it was best to know where the most dangerous man in the world was so I could be anywhere else. Sniping, poisoning, bombs in public places, you name the underhanded tactic, he used it to get the job done. Hell, he once shot down an entire jet liner just because his target was on it."

Shirou's brow furrowed in rage. Not just because Shishigou was disparaging his father's memory, but also because the picture he was painting of a ruthless killer willing to cross any lines for his objective was… more than a little familiar. It certainly fit Archer perfectly.

"He wanted to be a Hero of Justice," Shirou murmured, trying to convince himself as much as Shishigou. "He wanted to save people."

Shishigou snorted. "Whose justice, kid? Because unless his idea of it was killing everyone so they couldn't hurt anyone else, I don't think he was doing a very good job."

Shirou reinforced his leg and kicked down the door, shattering the rotting wood into splinters, Kanshou and Bakuya ready to disarm the man so he could talk some sense into him.

Unfortunately, there was no one else in the room. Just a black jacket on a chair and a walkie-talkie glowing with reinforcement magic, likely what had increased its volume and intake throughout the house without static. On the far side, a large open window provided a view to the misty street below.

"Of course, I can't say I didn't learn a thing or two from him," Shishigou confessed over the talkie. The distinctive click of a button sounded over it immediately afterward.

Three tiny red lights suddenly blinked into existence on all three sides of the room, all attached to palm sized brown blocks.

Taiga had dragged Shirou to enough action movies for him to recognize plastic explosives. His eyes widened in panic as renewed his reinforcement and shot out the window, throwing up a rushed projection of the last shield he had used, Leonidas' hoplon, behind him to absorb as much of the blast as possible.

The explosion erupted just as he crossed the threshold of the window, the ancient wooden building going up in a thunderous blaze. His shield held, but due to the angles of the explosives, he was still caught by plenty of concussive force, throwing him across the street and smashing him into the side of the opposite structure. Among the many grievous injuries he had endured in his life, it was definitely not the gravest but it was far from pleasant. If he hadn't had his shield, he would have been burnt to a crisp and even then, he would have been paste on the wall if not for his reinforcement. As it was, his clothes were black with soot and his muscles felt like he'd just taken a punch from Heracles, but he was alive.

Now he just had to make sure he stayed that way.

He twisted his body as he fell, getting a decent look at the street below. Shishigou was there shoving a pair of binoculars into his belt, probably how he'd watched for when he entered the room, and pulling out his shotgun. Without a doubt, he'd be able to get a shot off before Shirou hit the ground. And with the heat seeking properties of his ammunition and Shirou really not wanting to trace another shield so soon after both Rho Aias and two of the hoplons, that might be troublesome.

Troublesome, but not unmanageable.

" _Trace on_."

Two blades appeared in his hands, Kanshou in his right which he threw at Shishigou to knock his gun out of his hands, though not before the scarred man got a shot off. He then curled the vital points of his body behind the now weaponless arm, his efforts proving successful when he felt the infernal stabs in the limb that signified that Kairi's finger ammunition had struck, the rush of rot that began to surge through his body signifying that the _gandr_ curse had begun its job of killing him.

A job that would go uncompleted as he stabbed both wounds with the blade he'd summoned to his left hand, a jagged, ornate knife that should never have seen combat, yet was perfectly suited to disposing of any pesky curses before they could fully take effect. Despite all the crap his time fighting Caster had put him, Rin, and especially Saber through, he had to admit Rule Breaker was a useful consolation prize.

He dissipated the dagger as soon as he finished stabbing himself and once again flared his legs with reinforcement, his muscles screaming in agony as they reminded him that as good as he was with the magecraft, one wrong step would turn him into paste. So, after he successfully avoided breaking half the bones in his body and rolled to his feet with new copies of Kanshou and Bakuya in hand, he decided he'd give that trick a break for a bit.

Kairi's shotgun had been sliced in half by his earlier sword toss and the mercenary was frantically pulling out a pistol and fragmentation grenade from his belt. Shirou narrowed his eyes and threw both his swords downrange, knocking both weapons out of Kairi's hands as he charged, new projections of his signature weapons instantly appearing in his grip.

Kairi's eyes widened and he turned to run, only to dive to the ground as the thrown copies of the married swords raced back towards their partners.

Shirou evaporated the airborne copies and raced forward with his held ones. With Kairi on the ground, he'd have him at sword point in seconds. Then, he would force him to calm down and work with him to find a way out of this hallucinatory hellhole. And since he would not be killing the man once he'd beaten him, perhaps he could sort out exactly what had gone on with this world's Kiritsugu Emiya and how it related to his own father, and the ideals he'd be given by him.

Of course, that plan hit a snag when he saw the back of Shishigou's palm flash red. He thrust his blades forward for a killing blow to keep it from happening, but he was too late.

"By my Command Seal, to my side Saber!"

A scarlet flash erupted between Shirou and his opponent as the redhead pulled back his swords to defend himself from an incoming silver and red longsword wreathed in crimson lightning. He felt like he'd been rammed by a freight train and his arms buckled as he was once more sent flying down the street, ending up in a moaning heap on the ground.

"F█TH██!—eh? What the hell is going on, Master? Where'd father go? Who's this idiot?"

Shirou groaned as he pushed his swaying body to its feet, finally getting a good look at his new assailant. Even in his current, less than optimal situation, he had to do a double take at the sight of her.

While Jeanne had shared many facial features with Saber, Mordred was practically her twin, only with messier hair, slightly sharper cheeks, and more furious that Saber had been even when confronted by Gilgamesh.

His eyes danced over her sword, his Reality Marble taking it in instantly, Clarent: Radiant and Brilliant Royal Sword.

It was… less impressive than Shirou expected. It was still a Rank C Noble Phantasm, and he had no doubt Mordred could turn him into paste with it, but for a sword that was meant to be the successor to Excalibur, it seemed lacking. Of course, his analysis of the blade's history soon revealed why. Mordred claiming the holy sword without having been properly anointed king had weakened the properties of the blade, her treachery tarnishing the holy sword into a demonic one. Her improper actions had weakened her resources.

"Wait, now I remember you," Mordred declared, snapping her fingers in realization. "You're that kid from the church. You're part of the Periwinkle Faction."

"Blue…" Shirou muttered instinctively. He didn't want Rin getting word that he let their past name be said without attempting to correct it.

"Eh, whatever," Mordred waved off, smirking like a hunter that had cornered their prey. "The point is, you're father's ally. Which means he'll come for you."

"No games, Saber," Kairi ordered, stumbling back to his feet. "He's way too dangerous to leave alive. Kill him now!"

"What? But master—"

"We will find a way to kill your old man another time! Right now, we need to get rid of the guy who walks off being blown up and makes Noble Phantasms out of thin air!"

He wouldn't say he was 'walking it off'. Being in the midst of an explosion was as painful for him as it was for anyone else. He'd just learned to push through whatever agony he was in until the fight was over, and he was preferably next to Rin so she could heal him, keep from actually dying. Still, he supposed leaping out of a building turned fireball, disarming his opponent in midair, stabbing himself to stop a curse, rolling through a two-story fall, disarming his enemy again, and charging him like a bat out of hell might have made him seem somewhat intimidating from an outside perspective.

"What?" Mordred raised an eyebrow in confusion before locking her gaze onto Kanshou and Bakuya. Her eyes narrowed. "So he's got some fancy swords, I don't see how—"

"Saber!"

"Right, right, killing him," Mordred muttered, a crimson tempest surging all around her as she raised her sword. "Get clear, master."

"Don't need to tell me twice," Shishigou said, running the opposite way, the fog consuming him completely, ensuring it would be next to impossible for Shirou to find him again.

At least, if he survived. His scan of Clarent had informed him of Mordred's parameters and besides her luck, she had nothing below a B, plus a Prana Burst if she needed extra strength. She was near equal to a full power Saber, who had decimated Archer in an instant during his war. If he could force his reinforcement to work without turning his body inside out, he could hold out for maybe a few—

Mordred was on him before he had time to think of anything else, Clarent coming in for a series of quick slashes. Shirou threw up his learned defense from Archer, creating deliberate holes is his defense, counting on his opponent to go for them so he'd know where to block.

Unfortunately, Mordred disagreed with that idea. She didn't see through the tactic, no. It just seemed that she didn't care to bother with the openings. Her technique, if it could be called that, was more like a Berserker than Saber's elegant style. She rained down blow after blow, counting on brute strength to see her through his defenses, a not at all undeserved assumption as she continuously caught each of his blades without the other's support, battering the swords until Shirou was sure they wouldn't survive another clash.

At last, she raised Clarent high and brought it down in a brutal overhead swing, the steel screeching lightning and screaming for blood.

She was too fast for him to dodge, so he reinforced his arms as best he could and crossed his swords in front of him to block.

The strike before may have been a freight train, but it had also not been directed towards him, Mordred merely lashing out after being summoned by Command Seal and whatever rage she'd been embroiled in. Now, she put all her strength into her attack, and it felt like he'd tried to catch a battleship. The worn projections of Kanshou and Bakuya shattered to pieces and his arms squelched like popped water balloons, blood gushing out of the wounds from the _gandr_ fingers and Rule Breaker. He went flying back and smashed through the wall of the building at his back, the rotting wooden somewhat cushioning his fall.

"Ow."

Key word: somewhat.

He shook his head, trying to clear the ringing in his ears and the blur from his vision. When he finally succeeded however, he was confronted by the same pale child he had seen before entering the house.

"Down the river you go."

He blinked and the child evaporated from a slash of Clarent.

"Damn spirits. I already killed them, they're not allowed to come back," Mordred muttered, bringing her sword to his throat. "Well kid, you did better than most would against me. Since you know father, you can understand just how little chance you stood against the only knight to ever surpass him."

Despite the demonic sword an inch from his throat, Shirou couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. Surpass Saber? It wasn't an impossible feat, but from little he'd seen, Mordred hadn't done so just yet.

"That said," the Knight of Treachery snarled, her eyes narrowing at him. "I'll make your end quick if you tell me where he is. We have business to settle."

Shirou met her hard eyes glare for glare. "Even if I knew where she was in this place, I would never sell out Saber like that."

Mordred's mouth broke into a crazed grin. "Oh, yeah? Well then, as repayment for being a loyal ally to the King of Knights, I'll be sure to make you scream, bastard!"

"No, you don't!"

Mordred's eyes widened as she whirled around, only to be smashed into by a towering gray figure, sapphire light blazing all around him and his massive greatsword. The Knight of Treachery was sent skidding down the street, crushing the cobblestone to dust underfoot.

"Who the hell are you supposed to be?" she roared at the new arrival.

"Saber of Black?" Shirou gasped, as confounded as his would be killer.

Indeed, his rescuer appeared to be none other than Siegfried, but his presence made absolutely no sense. Though, it was theoretically possible that the explosion had attracted him to their location despite the fog, Archer of Black had been the only one of that faction's Servants in the entire city. There was no way they would have missed the Dragon Slayer's sizable magical energy signature, and especially no way that Darnic would be dumb enough to send a Servant who would be massively vulnerable to sneak attacks if his identity were to be discovered after Assassin.

"Go, Mr. Emiya," the apparent Norse hero pleaded, Balmung raised before him. "I'll handle this."

 _'Mr. Emiya? Why did he…?'_ his thoughts ground to a halt. ' _You have got to be kidding me.'_

His gaze whirled back and forth between the black Command Seals on his own right hand and the titanic knight before him, unable to believe the utter ridiculousness of what was plainly before him.

" _Sieg?!"_

* * *

 **This ended up being far darker than I'd originally planned it to be. Can't tell if that is a good thing or a bad thing.**

 **Now, the announcement. As many of you have undoubtedly noticed, this chapter is late and I am still behind on my other monthly story, Fairies of the Shattered Moon. Despite my best efforts, I have proven unable to consistently recover the monthly schedule while maintaining 'RWBY Zero's" weekly one. As that story should be finished later this year, I have decided to implement a temporary fix for the monthly schedules, one that involves the input of you readers, and those of my other stories.**

 **I will post a poll on my profile. Both Third Faction and Fairies of the Shattered Moon will get their January chapters, and then it will be put up to the readers which one will get updated each month, starting with February. To ensure that neither story falls too far behind, if either one wins two months in a row, the other story will automatically get the next month.**

 **This very much temporary, as once RWBY Zero concludes, which I expect to happen sometime around September, Fairies of the Shattered Moon shall become the weekly story and Third Faction will become the sole monthly story once more, as my beta for that story Draconic and I work better with a longer timeframe for that story. The poll will be open until Febuary 3rd, so that readers of this story will have time to get the announcement and vote.**

 **I wish to offer you readers an enormous apology for inconveniencing you due to my overestimation of my own writing speed capabilities. I am immensely grateful for the support you all have provided me for all three of my stories and I hope you will continue to find my future narrative endeavors enjoyable.**

 **An extra huge thank you to my patrons: ArcherMcMuffin, Gregg Tracton, Keith Traction, StabKingPro, Annaya Chan, and Benjamin Norris.**

 **Thank you for Reading! I hope you enjoy what comes next!**

 **Go Forth and Conquer!**


	12. Chapter 11

**February Poll Chapter! Hooray for the new system!**

 **Beta-ed by Draconic**

* * *

" _Ring around the rosy, a pocket full of posies…_ "

 _They_ grinned all around, looking through the mists of their hell, watching all the little people scurry about. It wasn't exactly as expected, but that just made it more fun!

The homunculus they'd sent to the knight had somehow turned into a Servant, saving the other strange boy just in time. _They_ couldn't decide if that was cheating or not, but it couldn't last for long, no siree.

The knight would kill him in the end. Then _they'd_ send her to the horsy and let her see him kill the kitty. She'd slaughter him to avenge her ally and then they'd set her on the rest of them, including her own mage. It wouldn't be too hard. _They'd_ just make her see what _they_ wanted her to see. By the time she realized what she'd done, she would be happy to be their mommy. It would be even better if the kitty lived. She was soft, and kind, and weak, and could barely resist them. If the cat lady saw the knight killing _them_ , maybe she'd betray her friend.

Of course, there was that other… problem. The mage that had trapped _them_ in the pretty jewel was still around, along with the other Saber— the one with the sword that wasn't there, but also was. It screamed at _them_ , haunted _them_ , defiled _their_ playground with something icky. It was too bright. Was it… hope?

No such thing. No such thing. Only suffering and pain and death. The sword was a liar, hiding behind weird wind.

That sword… whatever it was, _they'd_ save that for last. Most of _them_ were surrounding that pair, making sure they didn't cause too much trouble, but _they'd_ all have to deal with it in the end. And _they_ would. _They'd_ rip the Saber and her jewel mage apart bit by bit by bit!

Then _they'd_ go back home with _their_ mommies and have that yummy hamburger steak together!

Oh, she almost forgot. There was that boy. The boy who wanted to find justice. The boy who had seen that fire, was bathed in it. He had seen another hell, one different from Jack's. And like _they_ had only _their_ hell, he had only his.

But he was pretending he didn't, that there was something more. That something as silly of justice existed in a world as black and cruel as _theirs_.

 _They_ would show him the truth. He'd be the easiest of all.

There was some trouble, the Sabers and even the horse-Archer were navigating _their_ fog much better than they should've been. Why wouldn't they stop breaking the rules?! Oh well. The game was still _theirs_. And it would be so much fun.

" _Ashes, ashes, we all fall down!_ "

* * *

 **FATEFATEFATEFATE**

What the actual _fuck_ was going on?!

First, she killed Assassin of Black. Then, Assassin of Black, seeming not to mind that it had been literally chopped in half, exploded in a burst of more cursed fog that left her wandering around in some hellhole of a city. And to top it all off, despite having been bisected and blown up—however that happened—Assassin of Black still wasn't fucking _dead!_

It wasn't enough that it trapped her in some sort of void, and surrounded her with a bunch of whining ghosts–probably trying to curse her or something like that–but it had also interrupted her chance at taking revenge on father! Mordred swore that the next time she saw Jack the fucking Ripper, she would kill him again, and this time, she'd make sure it stuck!

At least… she _thought_ it was a him? Her memory was foggy about what Assassin actually looked like for some reason. That was… annoying. Eh, who cared? Dead was dead.

Oh wait, no it wasn't! That was why she was in this ridiculous situation in the first place!

She growled. She _really_ wanted this Assassin to just die already.

Honestly though, she was kind of grateful that her Master had summoned her with a Command Seal. It had interrupted her search for Assassin and father, but it had also snapped her out of her…well… episode. She didn't react well to having things taken away from her, especially not after it was dangled out in front of her. But then, who wouldn't be angry if someone did that to them?

Having thought about it a bit, this actually might be for the best. She'd rather she took a short detour than have her Master die because she wasn't by his side. Just because she needed his magical energy, of course. Nothing was more important than confronting her father, but she couldn't very well do that if she ran out of _prana_ and disappeared.

Besides, it was just one mage. So, what if he could make some fancy swords? She was so much stronger and faster than him that this wouldn't even be funny.

And she was right: The redhead barely had the time to raise his weapons before she'd knocked him onto his back, his swords shattering after a single strike. _This_ was the guy her Master wanted her to kill ASAP?

That said, he'd still beaten her Master, and she'd seen firsthand how skilled a warrior he was. Not a match for a Servant by any stretch, but still highly impressive compared to most. For this Emiya to have him at his mercy, and be confident enough to not only leave him alive, but also to keep the King of Knights' location from her under obvious threat of death… well, it was an unprecedented show of defiance. He wasn't a worthy opponent by any stretch of course, but he was at least worth her time.

At least, he _would_ have been if that other bastard hadn't shown up out of nowhere!

Seriously, where the hell did this gray knight come from? And why was he so intent on defending Emiya? Honestly, telling him to let him handle her? Handle _her_! Did he really think he could _survive_ Mordred Pendragon, the one true heir of the King of Knights?!

She didn't waste any time charging the bastard upon having the gall to say that, knocking him backwards through the fog. She didn't really mind that she'd lost sight of her actual prey. The poor chump would probably just be lost to Assassin's world anyway. Oh well, with her Instinct skill, she could navigate the mist well enough, so she'd just track him down after she killed this other knight.

Which would have been much easier if her sword stopped grazing off the stupid lug like he was made of metal! Honestly, his swordplay wasn't much to write home about, bar a few sudden lucky strikes, but otherwise it was clunky. Clumsy as a child who'd never touched a blade in his life and was swinging a stick. She'd struck him a dozen times over by the time they'd smashed through the first two rotting buildings, but her sword wasn't leaving a single scratch.

"Bleed already!" she snarled.

If she didn't know better, she could have sworn he mumbled, "I'm sorry." He was managing to mock her by losing! The nerve of the bastard!

He took another swing at her but she lazily batted the claymore aside, nearly disarming him in the process. This was Saber of Black? The great dragonslayer Siegfried? Ha! What a joke! He must have made it to the Throne by relying on that infuriating armor. She wouldn't be surprised if he had absolutely no idea what he was doing.

* * *

 **FATEFATEFATEFATE**

If Sieg could have read Mordred's mind, he would have agreed with her immediately. It was both his instinctive reaction as a being designed to servile as well as his logical assessment.

What in the world _was_ he doing _?_

When Sieg had woken up to find that the Blue Faction had already left for Bucharest, he raced after them immediately, Serge generously providing him with a bus pass for the trip. He'd arrived in the dead of night and wandered around the city searching for his old companions only to be enveloped in the strange fog and transported to some horrifying facsimile of the world, where children were beaten and killed and women were…

This was too much. He wanted to forget. He wanted to forget _everything_ he'd seen in this place!

Was this… was this what humanity was like? Was this insanity, this… this… gratuitous cruelty humanity's true nature?

He wished he'd never left the citadel, that he had just died in that tank like all the other homunculi that were being farmed for _prana_. Better to be used up and thrown away in an instant without having a life than to have a mockery of one such as what he'd seen in this horrid city.

There were spirits all around him, little children laughing at him from the darkness. He raised the sword Rider of Black had given him in an effort to protect himself, but he wasn't sure it would do much good. He might have to use one of his Black Command Seals, but he didn't know exactly how long the effect would last, and he only had three of them to begin with. He couldn't waste them.

Then, one of the children had emerged from the fog and waved him over. Despite every instinct in his body screaming at him to run away, he'd followed the little girl.

And she'd led him to a burnt-out husk of a building, where a blond girl in red and silver armor was about to bring down a sword on Mr. Emiya's head.

He'd shouted his command without a second thought and leapt in to save his cooking mentor.

Unfortunately, while the seal had transformed him into Siegfried's shape as expected, it had not instantly endowed him with certain crucial combat skills, most importantly, swordplay. Or rather, the instincts were instilled in his body, but his mind was so unused to combat that he kept interfering whenever they tried to perform any impressive feat of bladework. If it weren't for the Armor of Fafnir, he would have been dead a dozen times over after the first exchange alone.

He needed to shape up, immediately. Siegfried's Servant-level _prana_ reserves might have been amplifying his already high-quality magic circuits, but even that would only maintain his new form for so long. Already, he could feel his miraculous state slipping away. And if Saber of Red, for who else could his opponent be, was still alive when he transformed back, she would slaughter him in an instant.

He couldn't die, not yet. He needed to ask the Blue Faction for help. He needed to give the other homunculi the same chance for freedom that he'd been granted!

Everyone had sacrificed so much to get him this far! No one else could, or should have to help him now. He needed to defeat his opponent. He needed to fight!

He might not have had Siegfried's skill, but he had his strength, his speed. And if Saber of Red couldn't penetrate his armor, then there was no point in trying to block her attacks. He was wasting precious seconds, and there was nothing stopping him from going on the offensive himself.

He angled his shoulder so Saber of Red's next strike glanced off instead of striking head-on. After that, he heaved Balmung over his head and brought it back down in a brutal arc. His opponent's eyes widened at his incoming blow, her body sparking with crimson lighting as she scrambled out of the massive greatsword's range.

With only a moment to breathe, he was ready to keep going. Utilizing every ounce of his borrowed agility, he rushed forward, unleashing a series of wide sweeping arcs, surging with turquoise energy. Any true swordsman would easily be able to dodge or parry such sloppy bladework, but with the strength of a dragonslayer behind them, he was still capable of holding his own.

Strangely, Saber of Red did not dodge him, or even deflect his blow. Instead, she roared and met him head-on, their swords clashing again and again as their strikes cancelled each other out. Eventually, his blade slid down to her hilt, sparks erupting all along the steel as the pair locked blades in a stalemate.

"Ha! This is the vaunted Hero of the North? What a joke!" Saber of Red growled, her strained voice betraying that the clash was just as trying on her as it was him. "I've met dogs with more bite than your blade!"

"You say that, but you've yet to inflict any sort of injury upon me yourself," Sieg grunted in response. It was just a fact. However, he tried to at least put some pride in his words, if for no other reason than to force the knight to show some respect for the real Siegfried.

"You have no right to brag," Mordred scowled. "You're offending me just by calling yourself a Saber! You swing that sword around like a child flailing around with a stick!"

He answered her insult with a burst of strength, Balmung itself seeming to charge further forward to claim his foe's head. The greatsword seemed to… hunger, to thirst for the red knight's blood. It was almost instinctual, like it was meant to kill Saber of Red. He didn't know why. Perhaps there was some factor in their legends, but he certainly wasn't going to complain as the additional ferocity allowed him to steadily force his opponent back despite her stubbornness.

"–the hell?" Saber of Red muttered as she skidded backwards. Rising to her feet, she raised her voice to a growl. "Alright then, you bastard. You want to do this the hard way, we'll do this the hard way. Now you're gonna _get it!_ "

This couldn't end well.

Crimson lightning erupted from Saber of Red like lava from a volcano, crackling along her armor and practically enveloping her sword. He knew what this was; a Prana Burst skill. A lightning variant, the bolts rapidly pulsing through her sword. With speed she hadn't possessed a moment earlier, she rocketed past Sieg's guard and skidded to a halt beside him. She was well past his defenses, and he hadn't the reflexes or experience necessary to react in time. So when she swung her sword out in a single scarlet slash, he took it in full force.

Siegfried, of course, would have been skilled enough to counter her assault, hell he probably could have kept her from flanking him in the first place. As it was though, Sieg only survived by hopping back and taking the blow that would have hit his throat on his shoulder. A thin, light cut spread across the dark skin.

Sieg's eyes widened in amazement. The Armor of Fafnir prevented any attack below Rank A from harming him, and reduced the power of anything above that by a Rank B. He had been fighting on the assumption that his opponent had no way of overcoming his protection, but if that attack had struck true, it would have slit his throat.

Saber of Red cackled with triumph. "First blood to me! My next strike will take your head, Saber of Black!"

Huh? She thought he was…? Wait, of course she would, he looked exactly like him and she'd never met the real Siegfried. He didn't think she could have mistaken his dreadful performance for the original if she'd ever seen him in battle. Or maybe she thought so highly of her own skills that she'd simply believe such ease was natural.

Nonetheless, he had no more time to ponder that before lightning blazed around her once again and she raced towards him for a second strike.

He raised Balmung to block the blow head on, but before he could raise it into position, his arms all but gave out. His hands were still wrapped around the hilt, but his limbs protested as if he were trying to lift the massive weapon with only the insufficient muscles of his true body.

His transformation was losing power faster than he'd expected. The battle couldn't have been that long, a minute, maybe a bit more? He didn't think he could hold out for another.

Though he wouldn't need to worry about that if Saber of Red killed him right now. His brief flinch had cost him valuable seconds, time he no longer had to block with the lower half of his sword as he'd been doing. He could try to counter with the upper half, but he couldn't get his full strength behind that part to hold off the attack entirely, he'd have to parry or riposte, but he didn't…

…know how…?

How did he know what a riposte was?

Maybe it was that he was distracted by trying to maintain his Heroic Spirit form, and maybe he just got lucky that Siegfried's instincts made his body react to the danger facing him in that exact moment. Either way, the movement he needed suddenly filtered through his muscles and his body moved like the master swordsmen it belonged to.

The tip of his claymore flicked into the oncoming sword as he hopped to the side, and the momentum that Saber of Red had built up by pouring all her strength into that single slash sent her charging a good ways past him. She rammed through the wall of another building before whirling around to face him again, a snarl on her lips.

Still, Sieg panted hard. He couldn't count on his luck to hold out like that again. His opponent could penetrate his armor and he wouldn't have it for much longer anyway. He didn't have the skill to defeat her in a head to head fight, at least not in the sparse time he had left.

His only hope was to hit her with everything he had left. There was no way his form would hold after he used it, but Siegfried's Noble Phantasm was his only chance.

He eyed the blue jewel embedded in the greatsword's hilt and poured every ounce of magical energy he had left into it.

Saber of Red sparked with power as she glowered at him. "I'm going to tear you apart for that, you third-rate excuse for a knight!"

Sieg felt offended that his opponent was insulting the man who had been willing to give up his life to save his, but he couldn't deny that her posturing was useful. Activating his sword's true capabilities took a few seconds. The real Siegfried could have definitely done it in less time, but he could only do his best.

He raised the titanic blade above his head. " _O sword, let thee be filled._ "

All at once, a sapphire aura of energy blossomed around the sword, soon expanding into a massive pillar of magical power, enormous enough to split the clouded night in two.

Saber of Red blinked at the display, but the corners of her mouth twitched upward into a bloodthirsty grin. "A Noble Phantasm, eh? Alright then. My helmet's already down, so I'll just respond with my own Noble Phantasm. Behold the weapon that felled the greatest hero who ever lived!"

She gripped her sword in two hands before her and a tempest of thunderous crimson lightning erupted from the steel.

Sieg grimaced. He'd hoped that she wouldn't have anything capable of rivaling his last-ditch attack. If his own assault failed, or worse, if it was overcome, he was doomed.

No. He had to have faith. This attack, this sword, this power, it wasn't just his. This was _Siegfried's_ Noble Phantasm, the crystallization of his legend as a hero. He knew firsthand just how true that will held. Even if it was diminished in his unworthy hands, it would not be overcome by this braggart. He wouldn't allow it!

 _"_ **Balmung!** _"_

 _"_ **Clarent Blood Arthur!** _"_

Both knights brought their swords down and the titanic swaths of crimson and sapphire energy hurtled towards one another, surging waves of scarlet and cyan. The stones and mortar in the long stretch of road between them disintegrated into sand which turned to glass as the two waves collided. The cobblestones beside the two clashing Noble Phantasms, subway platforms to a pair of colliding trains, shattered, the earth rising into stalagmites on either side, and that which wasn't blasted into oblivion was pushed aside.

The shockwave hit the surrounding area before the clashing Noble Phantasms themselves did; a hurricane swept outward, sweeping the previously inescapable fog away, briefly making the whole city visible and erasing the distortions. Entire buildings were ripped from the ground along with their foundations, rising into the air and toppling onto their neighbors which collapsed like domino stacks. Then the violent energy ripped apart anything that was still standing, and set anything that remained alight.

The two blasts, neither able to overcome the other, finally fused into a single gargantuan pillar of violet light that surged into the sky, a blinding signal for all to see, even in the depths of hell.

* * *

 **FATEFATEFATEFATE**

Rin loved London. It often felt more like home to her than Fuyuki did; Which just made whatever _this_ was that much more offensive to her. This caricature of her city disgusted her, and she positively loathed it.

She was starting to take a rather sick joy in killing the twisted residents of this place just to shut them up for a few seconds before another atrocity of some sort would appear. Better that they die from a _gandr_ to the heart then by being splattered all over the cobblestones by a horse, or have their heads caved in by a falling brick. She was sure that Assassin was mostly just trying to annoy her at this point, after she and Saber had successfully evaded runaway carriages, falling objects, and the occasional knife, thrown from various directions. Every time Saber needed to step in, her armor seemed to vanish, but fortunately, it seemed that her sword wasn't affected.

There was one other saving grace in that Saber seemed to be capable of navigating this dense fog, even when it closed in around them to the point that they could just barely see each other.

It was during one of these moments that the mist suddenly dispersed. Not as it had previously, returning them to the murky gloom of the old London streets, but completely, in time with the sound of an explosive collision.

They needn't have looked for the noise. The pillar of violet light was more than enough to indicate where it was coming from.

"Saber?"

"Yes, Rin?"

"We should head towards that thing, shouldn't we?"

"An event like that, capable of forcing its way through Assassin of Black's control over this world to be seen without its approval would have to be fueled by an enormous amount of magical energy. There is, of course, the possibility that Assassin wants us to see it and go there, in which case it is most assuredly a trap. However, I highly doubt that."

That piqued Rin's curiosity.

"Why do you say that?"

Saber pointed at the explosive tower of energy.

"Can you see the red lightning?"

The event was already starting to dissipate, but Rin found that she could see bolts of brilliant red electricity crackling within the light. She nodded.

"What is it?"

Saber invoked her armor.

"One could call it Mordred's trademark. Regardless of what it is however," she continued, "it is undoubtedly more dangerous than where we are now, even in this demented realm."

"Which means Shirou is probably somewhere nearby."

"Almost certainly," Saber agreed with a sigh.

"Alright then. I guess that's where we're going—" Rin hesitated. "Your armor worked," she noted.

Saber opened her mouth to answer, but her breath caught in her throat.

From beyond the narrow alleyways, a chorus of children's voices slithered into their ears.

 _"Ladybug, ladybug fly away home..."_

No words needed to be exchanged for them both to start running. Saber spun around, deflecting a few thrown knives as she sensed the killing intent from behind them before flipping back around to keep pace with her Master.

 _"Your house is on fire,  
"Your children will burn."_

"I can only hope that Assassin's reasons for allowing me my defenses hold until we reach Shirou's location."

 _"Except for the little one whose name is Ann,  
"Who hid away in a frying pan."_

* * *

 **FATEFATEFATEFATE**

Atalanta's eyes widened as the gargantuan pillar of light erupted into the dreary sky, the previously all-encompassing fog rippling out like dust that had been brushed aside by a cleansing hand.

 _'Could that be Saber? But who is she fighting?'_

Other than Archer of Black, the only other foe who was in this repulsive world with them was Assassin, at least if this place was its doing as Shishigou theorized. And even if that was true, she couldn't imagine that Jack the Ripper could force a Saber Class Servant to exert such a tremendous amount of power.

 _'I suppose that I'll just have to hope she's alright. Because I can't help her right now.'_

Her gaze whirled back to her opponent, who was proving himself even more dangerous than she'd feared.

She'd been irritated when Archer of Black had shot her arrows out of the air back at Millennia Citadel, but she'd been far more disturbed when Rider had reported that her opposite number had managed to wound him. The only beings who could do that were those that wielded some kind of divine construct or had the blood of the gods running through their veins, neither of which was appealing to face in battle. She'd already learned just how cruel the immortals could be during her life. Gods were selfish, slaves to their own vanity, even among the best of them. Even her patron and benefactor had never shown herself, and when Aphrodite got her transformed into a lion, Artemis was nowhere to be found.

When her duel with Archer of Black had finally begun, her fears had not proved unwarranted. Her Crossing Arcadia skill had allowed her to maneuver as easily through the miasma of fog and crumbling buildings as she had over the hills of her homeland, but the mist was as much a hindrance to her aim as it had been back in Bucharest. Her opponent seemed to lack such a handicap. A dozen times over, it seemed she only avoided dashing straight into an arrow's path thanks to her enhanced hearing catching the telltale _whoosh_ of the projectile as it whistled through the air. This minor advantage enabled her to just barely dodge out of the way. Even then, she was still sporting a number of shallow cuts from altogether too many close calls.

Suffice to say, this was not going well. She might have been a skilled warrior, but she was primarily a huntress. She specialized in stalking her prey—chasing them if necessary—and riddling them with arrows before they knew she was there, or else could fully collect themselves. Her speed was exemplary, her endurance far less so. She had been partnered with Rider so his flamboyance would draw the enemy's attention away from her. Alone, she couldn't afford to let the battle continue as it was, or her foe would wear her down. But she couldn't do that if she couldn't see him, with even her Noble Phantasm's wide area attack rendered unreliable since this damned world made it so she could jump off a building only to finish the leap landing on the other side of that same house, all while the mocking laughter of a horde of wraiths echoed through the air.

The first time she'd heard the giggles, she'd mistaken them for genuine children, trapped in Assassin's hellscape, but after she'd caught a glimpse of them, she'd been able to tell they were not true youths. At least, not in the sense that she would be able to do anything for them. They had been corrupted, assimilated into the spirit of Jack the Ripper. They might have deserved to be loved, as all children did, but there was nothing she could do for them. They were already lost.

Just as she would be if she didn't figure out a way to defeat Archer of Black. And soon. She needed to find a way through the fog, a way to see him so she could get a shot off— _shit!_

She whipped around and loosed an arrow, her bolt catching a projectile that had been racing towards her back and splitting it down the middle. Feeling a rush of air heading towards her, she instantly nocked another shot and fired.

Unfortunately, instead of shattering another arrow as she'd expected, her shot was knocked down by the whip of a bow shaft. Said weapon's wielder quickly rushed out of the fog, a fist screeching for her face.

Atalanta ducked under Archer of Black's punch, her eyes narrowing as his arm passed over her head. Close combat had never been her specialty, and the fact that her opponent felt confident enough to enter that range against her did not give her much hope for such a clash.

Said worries were confirmed a moment later when he took advantage of her focus on his fist to sweep her legs out from under her.

She dissipated her bow as she fell through the air, leaning back and landing on her hands. She leveraged her weight off the ground and launched herself into a flying kick at her opponent.

Archer of Black halted her flight by snatching her foot out of the air as it neared his face. Her eyes widened as he clapped his other hand over her knee and whipped her over his head, slamming her through the rooftop in a blast of clay and dust. But she was more than capable of working through this.

Ignoring the pain shooting through her back, she recalled her bow and quickly pulled back an arrow aimed point-blank at her foe's head. Archer was forced to release his hold on her in order to dodge, sending her tumbling into the house below as his horsetail swished behind him.

There was a common misconception about falling in that it was often equated with a loss of control. This was, of course, because people tended to get hurt when they fell, and because most people couldn't maneuver in midair. Atalanta however, was not 'most people.' The simple fact of the matter was that there were right ways to fall, and wrong ways to fall. Most people couldn't tell the difference and attributed all movement during their descent to luck. Atalanta knew all of the right ways, and had virtually forgotten how to fall in ways that would result in any sort of personal injury. The moment her opponent let go of her leg, she shifted her center of gravity, got her bearings in the span of a microsecond, and flipped her body over so that instead of falling headfirst, she landed cleanly on her feet inside a cramped wooden hall. This was even better than the roof. The more varied the terrain, the more likely she was to win.

However she couldn't help but scowl. She'd recognized the combination he'd used against her. It was a high-level Pankration technique, one Heracles had demonstrated once to the men on the Argo during their numerous recreational brawls. She'd been able to tell that her current foe was also Greek from his attire, but it was surprising that he'd be as proficient in the martial art as the son of Zeus.

…

Divinity and the ability to predict Rider's movements…

Pankration skills similar to Heracles…

A horsetail…

She cursed whatever gods had conceived this arrangement. The World truly had a sick sense of humor.

Atalanta dashed through the rotting wooden halls of the building and smashed through one of the decrepit windows. She scaled the side of the next house over and leapt onto the roof, glancing about the sky.

If she really was facing the Sage of Heroes, she was in trouble. She would be more than willing to face him at range in any other setting, but she could not beat him hand to hand. And since being the son of the Titan of Time endowed him with enough clairvoyance to navigate this hell well enough to sight her at range as well, she could do no more against him as she was. She needed help.

Fortunately, the eruption of violet light was only just fading from the sky. With any luck, it would act as enough of a beacon to allow her to regroup with Saber. That was if this hellscape actually let her move towards it.

A chorus of ghastly giggles echoed up from the alley below as though to mock her.

She frowned, shifting her head to the side just in time to dodge an arrow that would have put a hole through her throat.

It wasn't like she wasn't outmatched already if she stayed.

Atalanta dashed towards the fading light of Saber's battle, the light patter of Chiron's pursuing footsteps shadowing her every move. She hoped she'd be able to reach her ally in time, or else her wish, her wish for all children everywhere to know love, would be lost to her forever.

* * *

 **FATEFATEFATEFATE**

Mordred panted as the cloud of smoke and dust cleared, waving Clarent before her to speed up the dissipating of the fog before the unnatural mist returned.

The bastard was fried. He must have been. She'd felt his magical energy wavering during their clash until it had finally flickered out completely at the end.

She smirked. It was almost enough to make her feel sorry for him. Saber of Black had never stood a chance against the weapon that had dealt a mortal wound to the King of Knights himself. Hero or not, no one could possibly have done better than her father and survived the attack.

Well, she could have, obviously. She had surpassed her father in every way after all, but that was beside the point.

Besides, Saber of Black brought his fate upon himself, daring to interfere in her execution of that Emiya guy. Now she'd have to track him down again and finish the job, or else her Master might give her an earful. Wouldn't be too hard though. Her Instinct skill had proved itself an effective guide through the fog back in the real world. Other than the wraiths that had latched on to her as some kind of curse and wouldn't shut up about their mommy, how much harder could navigating this weird shit version of London be? Hell, it would make fighting easier, since she could use her Noble Phantasm as much as her master's _prana_ could allow her since there were no civilians to possibly get caught in the crossfire—

"Unnngh…"

Oh, for the love of God.

Mordred trudged across the area that had moments before been her battlefield, the landscape once littered with cramped houses now a flat plain of packed dirt. The clash of Noble Phantasms had annihilated everything in a half mile radius.

Which made it all the stranger when she found a thin teenager on his knees in the dust, coughing as his body curled over itself, an ornate longsword sheathed at his waist.

Was it another one of Assassin's tricks? Was this boy another creepy spirit she would have to banish before it tried to annoy her to death with its giggling? Only one way to find out.

"Hey, you!" she called. "Are you another evil spirit?"

The boy suddenly jerked his head up, his scarlet eyes widening as he saw her face, his left-hand racing to cover the back of his right.

"No…" he croaked. "No, no, no…"

"Great. Good to know, now shut up," Mordred ordered. Seriously, the way his gaze was locked onto her, he must have been in awe of her incredible kingly aura. Not that such adulation wasn't an appropriate response, but she only needed one answer. She'd had enough babbling on from the Ripper.

But, given that he obviously wasn't some sort of manifestation of Assassin of Black, who the hell was he? Some poor soul who got pulled in when the field got launched and the killer teleported to her after Saber of Black fell? What, was it just throwing whatever it had at her in hopes of stalling her from finishing them off? How pathetic.

Still, something about those red eyes were familiar… from Sighisoara.

She frowned. "You're a homunculus. You're with the Black Faction."

"What?!" the boy squeaked, recoiling away from her. "No! No, I'm not with the Black Faction!"

"Don't think of lying to me, you doll," she hissed, Clarent scraping across the ground as she stalked towards him. "The only mages allowed in Romania are the factions or their allies. Now, I know for a fact that you're not part of the Red Faction's forces that were supposed to be in this town, so tell me again, how are you not with the Black Faction? Since you just happened to know who they were."

"I am not with Yggdmillennia!" the boy roared, suddenly growing a spine and leaping to his feet, though he staggered a bit once he was there. Still, he held his ground and stared her in the eye. "I escaped from them. I am not their tool. I am not a doll. I am a person, and my name is Sieg!"

Mordred cocked an eyebrow, not sensing a lie in his declaration. "You escaped, huh?"

The Knight of Treachery had a mixed view of her fellow homunculi. She had some pity for them, disposable beings created by selfish mages as guinea pigs or laborers. But at the same time, she couldn't help but despise them, for simply accepting their empty lot in life, for accepting being someone else's tool. She'd refused to allow such a fate to bind her, to be consigned to nothing but her mother's pawn and had risen to the ranks of the Throne of Heroes itself. So there was no reason others of her kind could not do something similar. They simply lacked the will. It was pathetic.

But this one, he'd escaped. Somehow, he'd found the tenacity to forge his own path and create his own identity, claim his own name. If nothing else, he was commendable for his audacity alone.

The boy drew the sword from his hip. "If you're going to kill me, I won't make it easy for you. Come at me, Saber of Red!"

He was bluffing. She knew he was bluffing, and he knew she knew he was bluffing. His sword was shaking in his grip from terror, the boy perfectly aware that she could kill him as easily as swatting a fly. And for most others who dared to raise a weapon to her, she would have.

But for this one… she was feeling generous. After all, what kind of Knight of Rebellion would she be if she ended his life right after he'd successfully completed his own insurrection?

"Sieg, was it?" she said. "I'll make you a deal. Survive this hellhole until I put Assassin down for good, I'll consider pardoning you for raising your sword against the rightful successor of the King of Knights."

The homunculus' jaw dropped. "What?"

"Did they not make your ears right?" Mordred taunted. "I said I'll consider sparing you if you survive this place. Quite the generous offer, don't you think? It's only fitting for a true king, after all."

"You're letting me go?" Sieg repeated, raising an eyebrow. He glanced about at the destruction left over from her battle. "After all this?"

Mordred shrugged. What could she say? She was in a good mood after taking out Saber of Black. Now she'd just have to deal with Archer of Black and finish off the cursed Assassin, and she would have beaten nearly half of the Black Faction on her own in one night.

And once she tracked him down in this mess, father too. That was the encounter she was most looking forward to.

Sieg glanced down to his covered right hand before his eyes widened in some sort of realization, probably at last getting that his initial awe was fully deserved. He lowered his blade. "I see. Thank you… uh… your majesty?"

Despite the pondering tone, Mordred preened at the title. Finally, between her master and this boy, she was at last getting the acknowledgment she'd been denied in life. That her father had denied her.

Oh, that reckoning was going to be sweet.

The familiar _whoosh_ of an arrow roused her out of her thoughts. She darted past Sieg and sliced a shaft that would have skewered his heart right out of the sky.

The homunculus boy leapt back out of shock, his scarlet eyes wide and his body suddenly panting. "An Archer?"

Mordred narrowed her eyes. She caught a glimpse of familiar, totally not adorable, cat ears flickering through the fog, before their owner had been obscured again just as another figure arrived next to them.

"It would seem my ally needs someone to bail her out," Mordred muttered. "See you around, kid."

"Ri… right." Sieg stuttered. "Thank you, for saving my life."

"Eh, don't worry about it," she waved off as she walked away. "Archer probably just thought you were more dangerous than you looked. She can't see anything in this blasted fog. I guess that's her excuse for why she needs me to save the day. See ya!"

Her helmet closed around her head. Her armor sparked with crimson lightning and she rushed off into the city. She'd save Archer's butt, then track down Emiya and finish him for her master, and finally wipe Assassin's stain of the face of the Earth. Leaving the best for last.

As father deserved.

* * *

 **FATEFATEFATEFATE**

Sieg could only blink in dumb, stultified confoundment as Saber of Red blasted off into the direction the arrow had come from. After Siegfried's Noble Phantasm had wiped out all his remaining energy, and indeed would have done so even if he'd used it right after transforming, he'd thought he'd been a dead man walking and instead…

Had… had that really just happened? Was his transformation having some sort of hallucinatory after effects, or had he just come out of that encounter alive? He unclasped his left hand from his right, revealing his two remaining Black Command Seals to the open air. He probably should have considered that just because she saw Saber of Black didn't mean that she'd connect a random homunculus to her dangerous foe.

Still, given how he'd first seen her stomping on Shirou's chest preparing to decapitate him, she'd been surprisingly cordial when she hadn't thought he was an enemy. Well, not cordial, but she hadn't killed him, and indeed, she'd kept Archer of Red from shooting him. There was an arrogance to her, but there seemed to be compassion within her too, he thought.

Maybe it was just his inexperience with human feelings, and he was mistaking aspects that weren't actually there. Or just the horrid wretchedness of his surroundings making even the slightest hint of kindness stand out like a sore thumb. Or that strange lightheadedness that seemed to be sweeping over him—oh no.

Sieg thrust his sword into the dirt like a cane, barely keeping his body upright as his knees collapsed under him. Though hardly out of danger, with the immediate physical threat absent and no longer needing to keep everything together, his panic and terror from what he'd seen finally played out.

The girl on the wall, screaming for the man to stop…

The policeman beating the children black and blue…

The river, so full of blood and excrement and human flesh he couldn't tell if there was any water in the canal at all.

He panted like a mad man, his scarlet eyes wide with uncomprehending horror and sweat gushed down his brow. He didn't know much about the world, but from what Rider, Shirou, Ruler, and the others had told him, he'd thought himself safe in believing it to be, not a perfect place, but at least a fundamentally good place. Their kindness, and Serge's generosity, had seemingly confirmed that to him. But this… this place… it was worse than Caster's workshop. Was this the freedom he sought to grant to his kin? The freedom to walk into hell?

" _What is fair is foul, and foul is fair._ "

Sieg's head shot up as the eerie decree echoed through his bones. Before him stood five children standing in a triangle, all blankly staring towards him. The lead youth, a ragged girl with filthy pink hair stepped forward, causing Sieg to fall on his back in terror, all his instincts screaming for his depleted body to muster some scrap of energy from somewhere and run.

"You're strange," the child remarked. "A broken dolly, pretending to be a knight. Pretending to exist. Pretending the world would let someone who wants to do good exist."

"What do you mean?" Sieg stuttered. "Isn't… isn't it in human nature to help each other?"

The children snickered amongst themselves as though privy to some inside joke. Their giggles echoed throughout the fog, a hundred phantom voices pervading the gloom.

The leader remained stoic, however. "Not at all. The world is cold and cruel and full of pain. We've suffered enough to know that better than anyone. We were made to be discarded, tossed away as stepping stones for others to climb to the top. Just like you, homunculus."

"But… isn't there some way to change it? Some way to make it better?"

"Can you stop the river from flowing?"

Sieg's hands gripped onto his head, his sword cluttering into the dirt. He hardly noticed as his mind raced. He remembered the piles upon piles of lifeless homunculi, his kin, used up and tossed away by Yggdmillennia or Caster of Black. He thought… he thought that in the real world they'd have freedom, the chance to choose their own destinies, for however long they had. But if this hell was the same as the workshop, if it didn't matter how much power he gained, what was the point? What was he even doing?

The lead child was suddenly before him. She hadn't walked, she had simply appeared, his sword in her hand as she blankly stared down at him.

"Now you see," the girl declared. "We are all consumed, born and unborn, washed down the River Thames." She raised the sword. "Won't you be our stepping stone?"

Sieg barely had time to gasp as she brought the blade down.

 _"_ **Strike Air!** _"_

The girl's yellow eyes widened for an instant before she and her companions were struck by a rush of golden wind, their forms disappearing like they were never there, Sieg's sword clattering to the ground.

"Sieg!" Shirou's voice rang out. The man himself quickly appeared at the homunculus' side, a comforting hand on his shoulder even as his left arm bled profusely from his own wounds. Rin and the King of Knights followed up behind him, the latter's golden blade on full brilliant display. "Are you alright? Where's Saber of Red?"

"I'm… I'm unharmed," Sieg stammered out. "Saber of Red left to aid her ally."

The King of Knights let out an audible breath of relief at that revelation.

"Thank goodness," Shirou sighed. A moment later, his amber eyes glared at the young boy. "You shouldn't have gotten involved like that. Mordred could have killed you."

"I think what he's trying to say is 'thank you for saving my life'," Rin noted, putting emphasis on the latter part even as she kept her eyes, and her _gandr_ , pinned on the dense fog.

Shirou nodded. "That too. Thank you for that. But you shouldn't have put yourself at risk like that."

"She was going to kill to you," Sieg gasped still trying to recover from Assassin's words. "I couldn't let that happen."

"What are you even doing here?" Saber inquired. "Your involvement in this war ended. There was no reason for you to have come to this city."

"I needed to find you," Sieg hurriedly explained, his hands shaking. "I needed your help… to free them… but, if it's the same… then what's the point?"

Shirou cocked an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?"

"The way of the world," a conclave of childish voices chuckled from the mist.

"Save the motivation for later," Rin growled. "We've got company."

Shirou nodded and pulled Sieg to his feet, putting his sword back in his hands. Then, the redheaded mage sparked his twin blades into his grasp.

The quartet stood back to back as a horde of lifeless children emerged from the fog.

"The way of the world?" Shirou scoffed, "Please. _Your_ world is a joke. You never even lived in the world. You wouldn't know 'the way of anything.' You only know what you've created for yourself. You love it like this because, despite your psychotic inclinations, you still have some vestiges of the children you've absorbed left in you, children who are inherently 'innocent,' and so you turned murder into a perverse sort of kindness. If all your thralls are conditioned to see nothing but the most hideous and debased parts of humanity, you get your excuse to keep butchering innocent people."

"Life sucks, and then you die," Rin leered at the wraiths. "You never hear that phrase spoken seriously, but you seem to exist by it, despite only having experienced the second part. You only know death, and you want to snuff out life wherever you see it to make sure it doesn't infringe upon your debased idea of reality."

"You talk about suffering, about how everything in the world is inherently vile and that none of it can be changed," Saber lowered herself into a defensive stance, prepared to guard both her Masters, "But you only exist right now by the good graces of a Master, and you have almost certainly had opportunities to do good deeds since you were summoned," The child in front pouted at this but didn't get a chance to bite back before Saber continued, "But instead, you decided to run amok, killing anyone you pleased. You _chose_ that path for yourself. You have no right to complain if your suffering is a direct—nay, _immediate_ — consequence of your own actions. And you wouldn't change this world in any way if it were actually like this."

The five children glared with their eyes, but that was their only protest. The rest of their faces split into twisted sneers before they all dissolved into fog and a multitude of acid green eyes began to melt out of the darkness.

* * *

 **FATEFATEFATEFATE**

Chiron really wished he could have ended this fight already.

Yes, the environment favored him, if for no other reason than his opponent lacked a similar skill to his Clairvoyance to assist her navigation and aim. Yes, it appeared that he had the advantage in close quarters combat and could match his foe arrow for arrow at range.

But that was not to say he was in any way safe. He heard the reverberating rounds of childish laughter echo through the mist just as anyone else. He knew it was only a matter of Assassin finding him lacking entertainment before he had to start fending off wraiths on all sides. To be prepared for that, he needed to eliminate his current obvious adversary.

However, just because he held certain advantages did not mean his opposite number was without recourse. Her speed might have been less than his former pupils, but he did not outstrip her by a significant margin in that regard. She had no refined close combat skills, but her tenacity allowed her to escape that range if he could not catch her in a grip, which so far, he had not been able to. All in all, while Archer of Red was a bit rough around the edges, she was obviously a hero that had earned every inch of her renown and a bowman of incredible practice and skill. Had fate allowed them to meet under different circumstances, he would have loved to take her on as a student to increase her abilities to even greater heights.

Alas, this was the Great Holy Grail War, and thus it was his duty to see her dead. A shame.

With her escape towards the now faded violet light having failed, he was steadily able to close the gap with his foe. While he seemed to be slightly faster overall, Archer of Red made such skillful use of her surroundings that he found himself unable to close for Pankration. Inconvenient, but unnecessary. He was an Archer, after all.

In the blink of an eye, he'd notched a trio of arrows and launched them downrange just as Archer of Red landed atop a smoke-spewing chimney. His clairvoyance flashed and he fired another three above her, each one screeching through the air faster than most humans could see.

Just as he'd seen, Archer of Red skillfully leapt up into the air the moment before his first volley landed and obliterated the chimney into dust. She was in the process of backflipping, two of her own arrows already notched for a counterattack, when she saw his second assault and altered her aim so her duo of shots deflected two of his.

Unfortunately for her, his final bolt made it through her defense, though she managed to shift her body so it impacted her upper left shoulder instead of spearing her heart. The lion-eared woman plummeted out of the sky and cluttered back to the roof, though true to her feline appearance, she landed on her feet, as well as her hands.

Chiron wasted no time readying another round of arrows and launched them at his foe and behind her, counting on her to continue her previous strategy and attempt to retreat again, which would send her right into his volley, or be forced to charge forward and engage him hand to hand where he had the advantage.

She apparently chose the latter, rushing towards him with all her legendary speed. Chiron lowered his body weight and prepared for her assault.

Instead, the other Servant of the Bow leapt onto him, using his shoulders as a springboard to pounce into the air and dodge his thrusted punch. The Sage of Heroes was impressed. Using one's surroundings to their advantage was the sign of an experienced warrior, but to be capable of using one's enemies as terrain? Truly he faced a worthy foe.

Still, though unexpected, her maneuver was hardly without recourse.

Shifting his grip to the bottom of his bow frame, Chiron swept his weapon through the air and hooked his opponent's foot in the gap between the top of the shaft and its string. With a mighty heave, he pulled his adversary back down to earth, smashing her back into the roof in a shallow crater. Needing to ensure she did not escape again, the Sage of Heroes stepped in on her upper thigh, and gripped a hand on her ankle and kneecap.

With a hard thrust, the leg broke and Archer of Red howled in pain.

Her maneuverability disabled, Chiron kicked away her bow and hopped back. Now with a stationary target, he raised his own loaded weapon and aimed an arrow straight for the valiant hero's head.

Unfortunately, the thunderous roar of rage echoing from behind informed him that he needed to shift his attention to another danger.

Whipping around, he fired his arrow just as a crimson lightning clad sword came screaming through the fog. While its wielder was also screaming.

He had a feeling this was not going to be pleasant.

* * *

 **Mordred races to save her cat frienemy and Jack finally confronts the Blue Faction head-on. Who will live? Who will die when they are killed? Find out next!**

 **Remember to vote in the poll for March!**

 **An extra huge thank you to my patrons: ArcherMcMuffin, Gregg Tracton, Keith Traction, StabKingPro, Annaya Chan, and Benjamin Norris.**

 **Thank you for Reading! I hope you enjoy what comes next!**

 **Go Forth and Conquer!**


	13. Chapter 12

**March Poll Chapter! Reminder to vote in the poll for May!**

 **Beta-ed by Draconic**

* * *

Kill, kill, kill, kiLl, KilL, KILL!

Kill the stupids! Kill the stupid, stupid, stupids that couldn't accept the world! _Their_ hell!

Why did they talk about 'good deeds' and 'kindness'? There were no such things! There was only blood, and death, and suffering!

And mommy. Yup, blood, death, suffering, and mommy. Just those things. Anything else, anything 'good' was just something people made up to try and hide from the world. And not the good kind like in hide-and-go-seek, the bad kind where people lied. And mommy said lying to them or her was bad.

 _They'd_ teach them not to be bad.

 _They'd_ swarmed in from every angle and crevice, dashing across the plain of flat dirt created from the knights' clash of Noble Phantasms. _They'd_ sweep over the lot of them, slash the boy and the homunculus' throats, and rip the jewel mage apart with their special trick. Without her Master, the Saber would lose power bit by bit. If _they_ didn't get her with their special trick as well, then the knight would easily tear her apart once she finished with the horsy. The game was _theirs_ to win, lying sword or not!

But something went wrong. _Their_ assault wasn't working. Whenever _they_ got close, a huge burst of wind would be released from the Saber, scattering dozens of _them_ , and leaving those who weren't killed instantly to be picked off by her allies. _They_ just kept falling, one after another. Falling against the lying blade hidden by wind, and the cursed copy Saber wielding it.

No. No, no, nO, no, No, NO!

They would die! They would all die! Even if _they_ had to all gather, even the ones latched onto the other knight, this lying Saber would DIE! _They'd_ kill them!

 _They'd_ rip them apart.

* * *

 **FATEFATEFATEFATE**

Arturia growled as her sword flashed all around, her Hammer of the Wind King raging in full force to drive back the hordes of wraiths Assassin sent after them. They weren't difficult to kill, they were literally hundredths of fractions of a Servant she was stronger than already, but there were just so many of them. For every one that she, Shirou, or Rin blasted apart, five more would just take their place.

It was infuriating, like facing Gillies' demons all over again except this time there was no spellbook they could strike to wipe them all out. And as several of the phantoms dashed for Rin with knives exuding putrid black shadows, she was growing more and more certain that they needed to finish this quickly.

 _"This isn't working,"_ Shirou echoed her own thoughts. _"Eventually, one of these things is going to slip past us."_

 _"A holy sword should be able to take these things out just like an exorcism. But first we need to cut off this thing's prana supply,"_ Rin said, blasting another wraith to mist. _"As long as it's connected to this world, it can always have another more of these sprits stashed away. Hell, it could even be driving the others in this place insane as we speak."_

 _'Cut it off from this world…'_ Saber wondered. _'Shirou?'_

 _"Yeah, I can do it. But if they're not all here, then it'll all be for nothing."_

"wHat aRE yoU ALL taLkInG aBouT?" the chorus of ghastly phantoms screeched, even as Saber's holy sword cleaved another trio in two. "JuST DiE alREAdy! We NeEd tO sHoW yOu to oUr neW mOmmY whEN sHe gEts hERE wiTh thE kItTY! ShE'LL be So HAppy to SEE yoUr cORpSes!"

 _'Kitty?'_

 _"I think she's talking about Atalanta,"_ Shirou informed her. _"She has cat ears. I'm guessing this new mommy she'll be with is… well…"_

 _"Mordred? Really?"_ Rin squinted.

Arturia's eyes narrowed at the horde of wraiths before her. If they hadn't already sealed their fate with their atrocities, they certainly had now.

 _"Get ready, Shirou. I have a plan. You'll know when to go when you see the sign.'_

 _"Will do. Good luck, Saber."_

 _"Thank you, Shirou,"_ she smiled like a lion that had spotted her prey. She wouldn't need luck to deal with a monstrous wretch such as this.

"Such confidence, Assassin of Black!" she taunted. "But if you hope to claim the Knight of Rebellion as your slave, then you're as foolish as you are mad."

A round of eerie giggles chortled up from the shadows, a single voice echoing down upon her. "She is already ours. She drowned in our curse."

"Your curse is nothing but another lie, a fallacy you invented to drag all those around you into this illusion," Arturia answered, annihilating another wave with a swing of her sword. "But Mordred has never had the patience for liars or those who resort to manipulation to get their way. She will break your sad excuse for a spell without even trying."

A single wraith leaped out of the shadows and Saber caught its two knives against her sword.

"No! You stupid, stupid liar! She _will_ be ours! She _will_ be our mommy!"

"If anything… she'll be your executioner!" the King of Knights swiped the assailant aside, sending the spirit tumbling backward, "As she already has been," she added as a reminder. "And if your hollow tricks couldn't even entrap her, you stand no chance against us!"

She punctuated her final word with a surge of Strike Air, unleashing an enormous typhoon that encircled their group, forcing the fog back and its masters with it.

For a moment, there was calm, the shadows curling back from the soft glow being emitted by her revealed holy blade.

Sieg stared nervously at their surroundings, Rider of Black's sword shaking in his grip. "Is it over?"

"No," Shirou said, pulling the homunculus behind him. "Keep your guard up."

"Saber?" Rin whispered. "Are you sure about this?"

"Don't worry, Rin," Arturia assured her. "Dealing with monsters is the duty of a knight."

Across the grey sky, slinking black shadows raced across the firmament. They smashed down in front of the four companions, unveiling a legion of ghostly children, each and every one of them glaring at the King of Knights. The ones from the alleys joined the ever-growing crowd.

The ragged, pink haired girl came to the front, her face twisted in fury. "Oh, is that so?" she snarled. "Well, if she won't be our mommy…"

The children dissipated back into black mist before coalescing into a single mass of shadow and smog, leering at their enemies.

"THEN HOW ABOUT YOU?!" the wraiths screeched in a thousand tormented voices.

The mass of spirits surged forward, winding across the plain and slamming into Arturia.

The King of Knights merely narrowed her eyes in concentration before vanishing amongst her attackers.

* * *

 **FATEFATEFATEFATE**

Chiron had wondered if Saber of Red would calm down once the cluster of black wraiths had fled from her. Such a possibility was promptly dismissed when the knight had roared once more and unleashed a slash of vicious red lightning.

Saber of Red, as her designation implied, was far more suited to close combat than her ally had been. While he was still faster than her, he had no doubt that she surpassed him in terms of brute strength. Her periodic spikes in magical energy and physical ability led him to believe she possessed some sort of Prana Burst Skill, similar to those Siegfried had observed during his duel with Saber of Blue and Lancer of Red. The added boost afforded by her lightning would be especially troublesome if he wasn't careful. Already his shoulder was singed after dodging a heavy downward slash; he'd avoided the blade, but the arcing electricity had lanced out at him. That was the trouble with lightning. It was too unpredictable for him to compensate with his own abilities.

The Sage of Heroes danced back along the roof, careful to keep Archer of Red's prone form behind him. Five seconds in battle with his current foe was enough to let him know that she had a substantial supply of magical energy at her disposal, possibly enough to incinerate him if she released it all at once. By keeping her ally in the line of fire, she was forced to restrain herself, making their duel one of skill, an arena in which Chiron was far more comfortable.

Saber of Red was relentless. As with her battle with the golems in Sighișoara, her wild, powerful slashes seemed more suited to a Berserker than her own knight class. But now that she was against an opponent she couldn't obliterate in an instant like Caster's constructs, he noticed that there was… he couldn't exactly call them tactics, but there was a certain intuitiveness to her fighting style. She had opened with wide, sweeping strikes, hoping to slash him in half with one blow, but as time went on and his agility advantage became clear to her, she'd shifted into quick, sharper moves, hoping to clip him and whittle away at his endurance, all without slowing down at all. Chiron had seen finer bladework and physical abilities, but while his foe was not complex, she was certainly no amateur. If he was going to win this, he wasn't going to do it unscathed.

"Stay still, jackass!" Saber of Red snapped. "Is dodging the only thing you know how to do?!"

Chiron just smirked back, and his opponent snarled, driven to ever increasing frustration. There was his advantage. Saber was a brutal fighter but also an emotional one. She was agitated, and that would in time lead her to overextend herself. And since she was unaware he had any skills beyond archery, that time would come sooner than later.

His opening came with a thrust, aimed to pierce right through his face. The Servant of the Bow spun to the side and stepped forward, clasping his grip around his foe's armored elbow and shoulder. He pushed down on the latter and pulled away with the former, hearing the distinctive pop of the joint dislocating, confirmed by Saber's pained squawk. He proceeded to wrench himself back, throwing her over his shoulder and smashing her into the rooftop, the shingles buckling underneath her and collapsing into the building's interior. She crashed through to the ground floor, and he made to follow only for the roof to start giving way beneath his feet, prompting him to jump a few paces back in order to keep his balance. Saber, on her part, didn't stay down for long, and she shot out of the house, leaping high into the air and coming down in a heavy overhead slash.

The attack was predictable, even without his clairvoyance, and he evaded easily, dodging sideways and taking a more advantageous position atop the adjacent house as Saber of Red's attack made the already damaged building cave in on itself in its entirety. Then she followed him and performed the same attack, destroying another house, and another as he continued avoiding her strikes. Her attacks might have been easy to dodge, but that didn't make them any less deadly. However, her technique was the same each time, and by the fourth house, he found his next opening, sweeping her feet out from under her as she landed.

He stepped forward, gripping her leg to perform the same technique he'd used on Archer of Red. But Saber had a personal skill that Archer hadn't.

Her lightning exploded across her body, forcing Chiron to take a step back. That was all the room Saber needed to spin back onto her feet and deliver a heavy kick to his gut. He rolled with the blow, using the momentum to put some distance between himself and his opponent, coming to rest on one knee with his bow drawn and ready. He already knew his foe's next move thanks to his clairvoyance.

Saber had leapt towards him, her body wreathed in a scarlet tempest, her sword ready to strike. His arrows would be capable of piercing even her heavy armor, but even at such close range, she'd be able to use her blade to deflect any shot he fired at her front. And since she wouldn't sense any buildup of magical energy within him, she wouldn't be expecting an attack from anywhere else.

Unfortunate for her. After all, no matter how much fog covered it, Sagittarius still shined in the night sky.

Chiron removed his fingers from his already drawn bow, his Noble Phantasm's True Name sounding through his mind even if it needn't be spoken aloud.

 _ **Antares Snipe**_ _._

The Heavenly Scorpion Shot descended like a comet, streaking through Assassin's dreary mist. Saber of Red's eyes widened as she spotted the sudden light shining over them both. She couldn't dodge in midair, but she did manage to twist herself enough that the bolt slammed into her lower abdomen instead of her sternum. The knight was sent sprawling across the rooftop, hacking up blood as she landed.

Chiron was impressed. True, his Noble Phantasm wasn't particularly powerful for an A-Rank Noble Phantasm, but such a direct blow, even off target, would still have put most warriors down for the count. Saber of Red however was already climbing to her feet, once again wreathed in lightning. The girl must have had some sort of Battle Continuation skill, and that only spawned from tremendous tenacity in life. She was a hero through and through.

Still, her frantic rise was made sloppy by her wounds, and had given him an easy window for a kill shot. He didn't waste time, drawing his bow and notching the arrow that would finish her.

Then his clairvoyance showed him a glimpse of an arrow through his chest and he knew he'd underestimated his foes. He whirled around and loosed his arrow, cleaving through the one headed for his back.

Archer of Red deflected the incoming arrow with the shaft of her bow, kneeling on one leg while her broken limb laid limply to the side. Despite her attack's failure, a victorious smirk blossomed across her face.

Chiron knew why, and even as turned as fast as he could, he could already feel the scorching electric heat on his back. He notched an arrow for a counterattack just as Saber of Red thrust her blade through his chest.

Most people would be infuriated at being slain due to being double teamed, enraged at the unfairness of it all. But Chiron understood battle. Though there were some lines that should not be crossed, most matters that were considered dishonorable were still valid tactics in the chaos of war.

Still, he couldn't say he wasn't disappointed. Fiore had been everything he could have hoped for in a Master, an able mind and a determined student. He was almost as saddened that he would be unable to help her walk on her own two feet as he was that he would be unable to reclaim the one gift his parents ever gave him. Moreover, he'd hoped to face Achilles properly in battle, to see how'd he'd grown on his own journey to the Throne, though perhaps this was for the best. The gods knew his old student had great difficulty battling those he once held a bond of friendship with.

In the end, though his second life was not long, he could safely say he was glad he'd lived it.

Also, if he was being honest with himself, this death was better than his first time experiencing it; friendly fire and hydra venom was a painful and humiliating way to expire. Really, he thought he'd taught Heracles to be a better shot than that.

* * *

 **FATEFATEFATEFATE**

Mordred panted heavily as she made to remove Clarent from Archer of Black's body, only to see him raise a hand.

"Ugh! What is it now?" she spat. "You play silent this whole time and now you've got a sword in your gut you wanna chat? Get real."

"Archer of…Red…" he forced out. "If I might…have a word with her—khh!"

He choked as Mordred twisted her sword.

"Are you freaking kidding me?! After all the trouble you've put me through, the _last_ thing I'm going to give you is a—"

"Let him speak, Saber," the Archer in question interrupted. She scooted her way across the rooftop until she sat atop the raised stone border. "He may yet prove useful."

Saber ground her teeth but nodded, one fist clenched at her side.

"Thank you…Archer of Red. I only ask…that you deliver a message for me. Your Rider is Achilles… tell him that…his teacher apologizes…for being unable to meet him in battle."

Archer of Red seemed to consider this for a moment before giving him a slow nod.

"I suppose there's no harm in it. I'll do that for you. Now, if that's everything—"

"Not quite…" said Archer of Black. "This may be…a lot to ask…especially of an enemy Servant…but I'd ask a favor of you. My Master—I assume…that you must have seen…the girl in the wheelchair at some point—was everything I hoped…she would be, and I know that she may yet become more than that. However, she…is not as strong as she believes herself to be. Whether she continues…fighting or not, she will remain…with the Black Faction. If…you ever see her in…danger, I would be most appreciative if you would take…action to keep her out…of harm's way."

At that, Archer of Red scoffed.

"And why should I do that? Why would a Servant aid an enemy Master, even one who no longer has a Servant of their own?"

"Because… regardless of…her status as a Master…she is still merely a child. And I know…you of all people…would never let harm come…to a…soul…innocent as hers."

This seemed to strike a chord with his counterpart. Mordred didn't quite understand it, but maybe it had something to do with her change in attitude with that waitress at the cafe this morning?

"How did you know who I am?"

"An educated guess. The lion ears… your skill… Hercules spoke well of you. Though I wasn't sure until your reaction just now."

The cat-eared woman clenched and unclenched her fists, gnashed her teeth, trembled, as though momentarily at war with herself, then…

"To think that the Sage of Heroes would be so conniving and manipulative," she growled. " _Fine._ You'll get your wish. I'll look out for your Master in your stead— _if_ it doesn't conflict with my orders, or hinder the Red Faction. I will not betray the rest of my faction for a reason as absurd as because my enemy asked it of me."

There was no response. Archer of Black had breathed his last, and he'd died with a smile on his face.

"'May yet prove useful,' huh?" Mordred leered at her partner, doing a shallow imitation of her voice. "Yeah, I can see how you getting leveraged into taking an oath could be useful to us. _Not!_ " Then she wrenched her sword out of the other Servant's body in such a way that it cleaved his head in two. Maybe it was petty, but after everything the bastard had put her through, she'd needed to work a bit of stress out, even as his corpse faded into motes of blue light. With a dislocated shoulder and a freaking hole below her stomach, he'd certainly put up way more of a fight than a pansy-ass Archer should have. If it hadn't been for her Battle Continuation…

Whatever. It didn't matter. The important thing was that she'd had it. And she'd won! Three Black Servants down, and all at her hand! She and Master were right to go solo. They were literally carrying the Red Faction!

And now, all that was left was father.

"Saber? Are you alright?"

Oh, right.

"Of course I'm alright!" she boasted, flashing Archer of Red a cocky grin. "That bastard was finished the moment I joined the battle!"

The lion eared bowman cocked an eyebrow. "I see. In any case, thank you for the assistance. It is irritating to say, but the Sage of Heroes was not a foe I was prepared to face alone, certainly not in this place."

"The Sage of Heroes? Sorry, name please."

"Chiron," Archer rolled her eyes.

"Wait, if that was Chiron, wasn't he supposed to be a horse?"

"Centaur. And no doubt he took a reduction to his parameters to alter his form. There are only two heroes of his race within the Throne after all, if he maintained his original state one could practically identify him on sight."

"Reduction to parameters—wait, you got your ass handed to you by a guy who wasn't even at full strength?" Mordred laughed. "Wow, I wasn't expecting much from you but man, that is just pathetic."

"And you would be dead if not for your Mana Burst and Battle Continuation skills. Not a slight against your abilities as a swordsman. Just look at it from the proper perspective: Archer of Black was an opponent strong enough to overpower either of us while fighting with a handicap."

"Okay, when you put it like that…"

"Well color me surprised. It seems you can learn after all." Her ears twitched. "Wait…"

She looked around, careful not to move her injured leg, her ears continuing to subtly move about.

"What is it?" Mordred whispered. Archer just held a hand up, and closed her eyes, focusing on her other senses.

"Hmm… that's odd."

"For god's sake, tell me what's going on!"

Her partner rolled her eyes, but answered her.

"We seem to be strangely lacking in spectral observers. Something must have drawn Assassin of Black's full attention."

"Father," Mordred growled, clenching her fists. "Those pathetic ghosts would need everything they had just to last a second against him."

"Possibly. Curses are much easier to resist when you know they're coming," Archer noted. "But your father? Is that why you were asking about the other Servants?"

Mordred scowled. That was a dumb slip-up. There weren't that many father-son pairs in the Throne of Heroes. She'd just narrowed down her identity to a handful for Archer, and if she learned either of their True Names, she'd instantly know the other one. _Dammit!_ How could she allow herself to be so careless?!

"Forget it," she snapped. "Assassin of Black will be gone soon enough. Once it is and this hellhole vanishes, I'm gonna need you to track down my Master and make sure he's safe. The Black Faction's Masters are probably still around, as well as the Periwinkle Faction."

"That name is simply ridiculous," Archer sighed. "Honestly, who in their right mind picked that color?"

"Don't you dare insult father's admittedly stupid faction name!" Mordred sputtered. When all she received was an exhausted and unamused look in return, she growled, looking off to the side. "Look, Master nearly got himself really messed up in a fight with that Emiya guy. And since I saved your ass, you owe me one."

Archer's brow furrowed thoughtfully. "Emiya? The one the priest warned us about. Alright, I'll do it, but why will you not be going to your Master's side? It is your duty as his Servant to defend him, is it not?"

Mordred whirled around and glared into the fog, knowing the person she wanted to see most of all was hidden within it somewhere. "I have matters of my own to settle."

"No. Saber, don't," Archer protested. "I can understand better than most the grudge one can bear against a cruel father, but this is not the time."

"Father's not cruel! He is glorious and magnificent and perfect!" Mordred roared back, unwilling to allow such slander against the King of Knights. "And there is no time better than now!"

"I have a broken leg and you have a hole in your stomach."

"Irrelevant!"

"Battle hungry morons," Archer hissed under her breath. "Fine. If your own safety won't convince you, how about this? If you admire your father so—"

"I do _not_ admire him!"

"Whatever! I just ask this: Would it do to insult him by facing him at anything less than your best?" the bowman finished. "Would you stain his apparent perfection by presenting him with an unworthy foe?"

Mordred clenched her fist, recalling the final battle at Camlann. The mountains of corpses, bodies that had once been knights she'd called her comrades. The King of Knights' emotionless stare as she ranted about what he owed her. The disregard so thick she'd actually caught him off guard and knocked his holy sword from his grip. The utter casualness with which she was pierced with Rhongonmyiad, along with the final admonishment of her unworthiness.

"To him, I stain him by merely existing."

Archer's face softened, looking down at her hands, but obviously gazing back into her own past. "I know the feeling. My own father abandoned me as an infant just because—"

"Seriously?! That's what you meant when you said you know what it feels like to hold a grudge against a parent?!" Mordred interrupted, face twisted with fury. "So you didn't even _know_ him! _I_ spent half my life at his side, completely devoted to him, and got nothing but contempt for it! Your issues and mine couldn't be more different if we were members of different species! Now stop trying to bond with me, Archer. _I don't need your pity_."

The bowman's face closed off again. She bowed her head. "As you wish. Still, if you truly believe your father is—wait. Your father is Saber of Periwinkle, correct?"

"Yeah."

Archer cocked an eyebrow. "Lancer reported that Saber of Periwinkle was a woman."

"Do not profane father by associating him with such weakness. He has long ascended past such a feeble existence, as have I."

"But still, wouldn't she be your mother?"

Clarent instantly reappeared in Mordred's grip, her _prana_ rising for Red Thunder again. "Don't you dare compare father with that conniving—"

Her warning was cut off when the mist that had been pervading suddenly evaporated. Just as suddenly as they'd been transported to Assassin's hellscape when it manifested around them, now they found themselves back in Bucharest, gazing over the sprawling city from another rooftop.

Archer forced herself back to her feet. "Thank the gods. That place was getting truly exhausting."

"Master?" Mordred called out, both aloud and through their mental link. "Can you hear me?"

 _"Saber? Thank goodness. You alright?"_

"Fine, master," Mordred replied, sighing in relief. "I'm with Archer. I killed both Saber and Archer of Black."

" _Really? Great job! That's two of the enemy's Knight Classes down in one night."_

Mordred preened. Her Master really was far better than a mage had any right to be. Most of them were either insufferable creeps like Merlin or deceitful bitches like Morgana. But Shishigou put his faith in her and rightly praised her when she, naturally, proved worthy of it. Also, he bought her food. If it weren't for his insistence on sleeping in filthy graveyards, he would have been the perfect Master.

"I'm gonna send Archer your way in case Emiya or someone else tries to do something stupid and make a pass at you," she grinned. "In the meantime, I going to… to…uhh…"

 _"Saber? Everything okay?"_

"Dammit!" she yelled. "No! Don't you dare hide from me!"

Archer raised an eyebrow at her. "What is it?"

"Father," Mordred hissed. "Assassin's world is gone. But I still can't sense father."

* * *

 **FATEFATEFATEFATE**

Oh.

Of all the places she'd expected Assassin's curse to take her, the decaying, corpse-filled London sewers, a battlefield littered with the bloody and broken remains of once valiant warriors, actual hell, whatever that looked like, she couldn't say the place before her was one of them.

A familiar golden field, shining like a star in the afternoon sun, the only disturbance on the flat plain a sizable chiseled stone, with a brilliant sword sticking out of its top.

Arturia could no more forget this place than she could her own name. The place where she'd drawn the Sword of Selection. Where she'd set her destiny in stone.

Indeed, she was only there a moment before a young blond-haired girl approached Caliburn's pedestal, a familiar, white cloaked man standing an unusually respectable distance off.

"Take care," Merlin advised. "The moment you take hold of that sword, you will no longer be human."

The girl didn't pause as she gripped the sword's hilt. "I know. I have known since I learned of my destiny. A king cannot be human. But in the vision you showed me, people were smiling. And if they were smiling, then this path cannot be a mistake."

The girl drew the sword from the rock and all of a sudden Arturia was there in her place, Caliburn clenched in her grip just as it had been so long ago.

 _"Smiling…"_ a ghostly voice whispered in her ear. _"A world where everyone smiles. No such thing. Never how it ends."_

The field disappeared. In its place was only a mountain of corpses, armored men piled up so high they seemed to scrape the sky. And just as she had in life, she stood atop the carnage at Camlann.

 _"Only death in the end. Death, and suffering and—"_

"Is this all?" Arturia inquired sharply, seeing no one but knowing that she would be heard nonetheless. "Is this all you can muster, Assassin? My own memories? My own choices and ideals? I hadn't expected anything complex from the mind of a child but this is… lacking. This is a painful scene, yes, but I've had time to come to grips with the consequences of my own actions."

Dozens of corpses were shifted, bloodied and mangled children crawling out of the carnage. They all stared up at the King of Knights, desperation and longing in their eyes. Despite her knowledge that it was only an illusion and the phantoms behind the image were mere murderers, she couldn't help the swell of compassion that rose from within her.

 _"Please!"_ a boy missing an eye and missing four fingers pleaded. _"Please help us!"_

 _"Please take us to world where we can always smile!"_ shouted another.

 _"Won't you please be our mommy?!"_ they all chorused at once.

Arturia could only sigh. She'd expected her Magic Resistance and her foreknowledge of the curse to protect her from any ill effects, but this was simply sad. If she'd been in the state she'd been in during her previous two Grail Wars, the sight before her might have caused her to waver, but as she was now, she'd made peace with the path she'd walked, whatever her mistakes, and wherever they had led.

"Why?" she asked stoically, forcing herself to remain impassive from above, the king beholding the tragic carnage wrought in her name. "You keep rambling on about a mother, but you already have a Master."

 _"Mommy feeds us, gives us magical energy."_ The pink haired girl they'd often seen explained. _"We need a mommy to protect us. That's what mommies do. They don't throw you away."_

Ah. So that was what it was. Understandable. Even absorbed and amalgamated by the wraith, the spirits of the children were still children. They wanted the parents they'd never met to make the world right. Despite the love she'd known with Sir Ector and Kay, she could remember a few sleepless nights when she'd wondered if Uther would not have so readily handed her over to Merlin had she been born a boy. Parents were supposed to protect their child, to love them, and most importantly teach them of the world and what it meant to be an upright part of it. The field of corpses around them served as an abject warning of the failures in such a duty.

But as poorly as she'd handled Mordred, Assassin had had nothing. No one to guide them but the malevolent instincts of a spirit that probably hadn't even understood it was absorbing them until they all became one single entity. And Jack the Ripper had found nothing in London that could refute their own assertions until despair became fact and fact became gleeful madness. Just as she had taken it as natural course that she would become king, so was it to Jack that the world was hell. They were trapped in sin just as she had been bound to virtue.

"I pity you," she proclaimed. "You who never had the chance to see the world beyond its darkness before you could understand and enjoy anything else. To be trapped in such a fate, I imagine that would truly be hell."

 _"Stop talking! Stop lying!"_ the spirits all screeched together. _"Please be our mommy!"_

Arturia shook her head. Shirou should have had enough time by now. It was time to end this.

"There is nothing I can do for you now," she sadly noted, both her hands clasping her sword tight. "All I can do is lay you to rest."

 _"LIAR!"_ The wraiths all leap upward as one, their apparent injuries now irrelevant. _"Be our mommy! Stay with us in our world, OUR HELL!"_

Arturia raised her holy sword to the sky, bastions of power surging through her. Mystical wind swirled all around until a veritable typhoon raged around her body carried the vicious spirits away and into the sky, expunged from the king's mind.

"But Assassin, do you not understand? We are no longer in _your_ world."

* * *

 **FATEFATEFATEFATE**

Shirou watched impassively as the dark miasma rushed out of Saber's glowing form, smashing into the brown dirt and breaking apart into the scores of individual children once more. Rin stood by his side, an unnecessary _gandr_ aimed at their foes while Sieg gulped, Rider of Black's sword shaking in his grip.

"You alright?" he inquired to Saber, who at last opened her eyes. "What did you see?"

"Nothing I haven't dealt with before," she assured him. She stared forward at their enemy, the venom disappeared from her glare, leaving only a sullen resignation. "It is time we finished this."

The spirits rived and growled to their feet, the lead ones drawing knives laced with darkness. "We'll kill you! We'll rip, rip, _rip_ , RIP—eep!"

A volley of swords streaking through their forms cut them off. They reformed an instant later, but the maddened fury had been wiped from their faces, replaced by an almost childish bewilderment. They all glanced about their soot-covered surroundings. "What? Why didn't we know… why didn't we see that… we know everything in our world?"

"Because we're not in your world anymore," Shirou proclaimed. "Welcome to mine."

The wraiths' eyes widened, the surrounding soot billowing away enough to reveal the legions of swords buried in the ground, legend radiating off them in waves. Saber's distraction had provided him with more than enough time to chant his aria, and having been separated from their illusion, Assassin's defenses were nonexistent.

The girl at the head of the pack bared her teeth, snarling as she raised her knife, cloaked in shadow.

"Don't bother," Shirou advised them. His Structural Analysis had already informed him of Maria the Ripper's activation conditions. "Your Noble Phantasm is useless here."

"We still see mist."

That prompted an ironic smirk to spring to Shirou's face. "That's true. But however much fog there may be…"

A greatsword of myth spawned above his head and blasted into the sky, slicing through the ocean of smoke above like the parted Red Sea of old. And through the new gaping maw, sunlight poured down upon the field of steel, the blades sparkling like diamonds under the amber sky.

"…it's always dawn in Unlimited Blade Works."

"Wha… What is this?" The spirits' jaws quivered, their eyes wet as they went from blade to blade. "This is…"

"Your world was hell, drowning in suffering," Shirou noted. "I got a bit luckier. I was given a dream, a focus for my pain. And through it I forged this place, a world that makes infinite swords, each existing to save everyone it can."

"Everyone you can…" the children muttered, "Can you save us?"

 _"Please save us."_

 _"Please give us salvation."_

 _"Please help poor Jack."_

Shirou turned to Rin, "Is there a way?"

She shook her head. "If they were merely a normal wraith, perhaps. But they're Jack the Ripper. Their legend is recorded in the Throne and these children's souls are part of it. Erasing something from there… I can't imagine what it would take."

"So… there's nothing we can do?" Sieg whimpered, gazing down to the dirt. "This is just… the way of the world?"

"It's how it's always been," a child muttered downtrodden.

"Nothing to be done," another agreed.

"Nothing that can be done," the pink-haired girl finished in a whisper. "Anything else would be a lie."

The spirits all came together once more, but instead of forming another nebulous cloud of darkness, all that remained was a slightly older version of the pink-haired girl.

"We're ready," Jack whispered, their resigned gaze glued to the ground. "Just do it."

Saber raised her sword, power rising to her blade. "Assassin, monstrous as you are, you are still a heroic spirit. You're going to want to look up."

"You're wrong. We aren't a heroic spirit at all."

Saber hesitated.

"How do you mean?"

"We aren't even Jack the Ripper. Why do you want us to watch while you kill us? Do you want us to suffer more? For us to pay for the crimes we didn't commit?"

"You've committed plenty of crimes since you were summoned, Assassin," Saber answered. "However that is not why you need to see this. It is merely about seeing the truth for the first time."

"Whatever you show us will be meaningless. We are Jack the Ripper."

"All the more reason for this to be the last thing you see."

Perhaps out of curiosity, perhaps out of hopelessness, Assassin of Black finally looked up. Saber released her power.

A towering pillar of golden light erupted from the greatest of holy swords and reached into the sky of Unlimited Blade Works, the smoke of the forges utterly banished by the mere presence of such glory. It wasn't until that moment that Shirou realized that he'd never actually seen Saber's Noble Phantasm at full power. Given who she was and all he knew of her sword, he had no doubt it'd be magnificent. But witnessing it firsthand, he wondered how he'd allowed himself to miss it.

Its glow, its ethereal, majestic glow was overpowering, blinding even, but he found he could not look away. To call the weapon beautiful, radiant and unrestrained as it was now, seemed almost an insult, a gross understatement of the crystallized miracle before him. His mind flickered to his past, to simpler times, living with Rin in their flat, hanging out with Issei and even Shinji at school, cooking with Sakura and eating with Fuji-nee. Learning magecraft with Kiritsugu…

No. Whatever he had to figure out about his father and the things he'd learned from Shishigou, those times back home, when the two of them were a family, a real family, those were still some of the happiest memories of his life. Whatever they may have led him to, or wherever they would lead him in the future, he would always treasure them.

"Shirou," Rin whispered softly, an arm already pulling back Sieg, whose eyes shone like sparkling rubies as he beheld the golden glow. "I know it's… well, what it is, but it's still an Anti-Fortress Noble Phantasm. We should get back."

"Right," Shirou agreed, gathering his senses. The effort felt like letting go of a magnet if his hand was made of metal. "How'd you look away? Does it not affect you—"

"Of course it affects me, you dummy," she chastised. "It's so… warm. Like old times with my dad and my mom and… someone else. But as amazing as it is, I also saw what it did to the corrupted grail. We don't want to be this close."

True. The blast wouldn't recognize friend or foe once it was unleashed, and with the power it was putting out, even the blowback could be lethal for anyone who wasn't a Servant. The three of them retreated several yards behind Saber, Shirou throwing up Rho Aias just in case.

Meanwhile, Jack was dumbstruck just as they had been, her face twitching between utter terror and worshipful rapture. "So pretty… but… it's a lie… can't be true… but so pretty…"

"It is hope, Assassin," Saber comforted. "Even on the blackest, bloodiest battlefield, there is hope. The wish of every man, woman, and child to be exalted, to matter, that their suffering might carry meaning. The meaning we must give it. Else there are only our failures and our sins, as you were left with."

"We… we never knew… it's so warm… like before." Assassin muttered, a tear streaming down their cheek. "Before we were Jack."

"I'm sorry," Saber told them. "But this is all I can do."

"We know." Assassin somehow wrenched her gaze from the light and looked at Shirou. "Is this how you turned the fire into this world? Is this how you grew up?

Shirou frowned, his mind racing with uncertainty. "Something like that. Still working out a few details."

"You haven't finished?"

A sardonic chuckle escaped his lips. "I don't think I'll ever be finished. That's just how it is."

Surprisingly, Assassin flashed him a sympathetic smile. "You poor thing."

Shirou wasn't sure how he was supposed to feel about getting pity from a psychotic, phantom serial killer who'd tried to have him run over by a horse and buggy.

Assassin turned back to Saber. "Hey, please don't hurt mommy? She never wanted to be a part of all this in the first place. She's not even a mage. She won't cause trouble for you, we promise."

Rin cocked a skeptical eyebrow. "She let you loose on a civilian population."

"It was the only way to feed us," Assassin tried to explain. "And it was only bad people… and whoever was around when we wanted a snack…"

"Ugh," Rin groaned. "Fine. Not like we have any leads to find her with or could turn her into the police if we did."

"Hehheh…" Assassin giggled sheepishly, much more like the child they appeared to be than the killing machine they were. "Guess so. Plus, you're going to have to deal with both those Red Servants when you get out of here. Sorry."

"Don't be," Saber replied, her face once more a stony mask. "It is better this way. There is a matter among them that I must settle myself."

Assassin cracked a weary smile. "Guess you have another game to play. Too bad, we lose here."

"Indeed. Goodbye, Assassin. May you find some peace, somehow."

"Peace… that sounds nice. But it isn't for us. _Ashes, ashes, we all fall down._ "

Saber brought down her sword and the pillar of gold followed.

 _"_ **Excalibur!** _"_

The shining tower descended and blazed across the land, Jack the Ripper swallowed by its brilliance.

When it was finally over, and the light had dimmed enough for Shirou to look back, the ground of his Reality Marble had been turned to glass where the Noble Phantasm had come into contact with it, likely the only mile in the entirety of Unlimited Blade Works without any swords.

It was ironic, in a way. Though the patch would soon be filled again once he saw a few new blades, to have any significant space in his inner world, the inner world of a sword, was not a thing that could be conceived. Especially caused by a force that gave him the same feeling as the moment that had sealed his fate.

 _A flash of a smiling face, so desperate, so happy to have found someone, to have saved someone. For, in turn, he himself had been saved._

Shirou had known there was true darkness and evil in the world since the fire. Assassin's world had only reinforced it. But he'd never bothered to wonder why his father had needed saving on that fateful day. Nor exactly how the ideals he'd so wholeheartedly embraced had first been born.

* * *

 **And so concludes the Jack Arc. Good times.**

 **An extra huge thank you to my patrons: ArcherMcMuffin, Gregg Tracton, Keith Traction, StabKingPro, Annaya Chan, and Nora Okonus.**

 **Thank you for Reading! I hope you enjoy what comes next!**

 **Go Forth and Conquer!**


	14. Chapter 13

**May Poll Chapter!**

 **So, addressing the elephant in the room, this chapter is later than it has any right to be. There were real life factors causing this on both my end and Draconic's, as well as him having a really sweet idea for this chapter that he poured his heart and soul into that ultimately just didn't fit logically into the continuity despite our best efforts, but ultimately that is an excuse. I promised you guys a chapter a month and I was unable to fulfill that promise, that is my responsibility, and for that, you have my deepest apologies.**

 **But, on the bright side, this story now has a TVTROPES PAGE! Yay! Please head over and check it out/expand it at your leisure.**

 **Oh, and the first Teaser Chapter for the story ideas on my P a treon will be published there this Friday.**

 **Now then, the chpater.**

 **If you wish to support me, please check out my P a treon for teasers of future stories, story ideas and more: p a Treon.(c om) (backslash) themaster4444**

 **Beta-ed by Draconic**

* * *

Fiore gasped for breath as her Bronze Link Manipulator carried her across the rooftops, pouring every ounce of her _prana_ into the mystic code. At least, she hoped she was. She couldn't focus. Her mind was in turmoil. The moment Assassin's bounded field collapsed, she had finally let herself relax, if only briefly. But those few seconds were more than long enough for the hideous memories to start replaying themselves in her head. Over. And over. And over again.

The grotesquery of Assassin's world, the twisted insanity that gave it form, got a foothold while her guard was down, and now she was panicking just from the memory. The skulls, the broken children, the rapists and people who seemed to live to be victims. Even after Emiya chased Shishigou off of her, she wasn't sure how much longer she would have lasted in the fog by herself. Now, the skyline once again belonged to Bucharest, but in her mind's eye, she could still see that hideous funhouse mirror facsimile of London…

And now she was alone. Archer was gone.

 _Dead_.

Archer wasn't gone, he was _dead_.

She'd failed, and it cost him his life. A logical part of herself was telling her that it couldn't have been entirely her fault—he'd been up against two very powerful Servants, but with her mind racing as it was, that thought got swept away in the river of insecurities spiraling around in her head.

He was dead. It was over for her.

The dangerous implications that this held for the Black Faction as a whole aside, she could barely comprehend the fact herself. The Sage of Heroes that she had looked up to, who'd shared tea with her, who'd assuaged her concerns with his counsel, was dead. Just like that. He'd apologized through their link before he vanished from this world, informing her of Archer of Red's true identity. One last gift to a dear student. Another apology, and for a moment, there was a sensation, not quite auditory but similar, as though radio static was being transmitted directly into her brain. And then, nothing.

Fiore wasn't sure she'd fully understood just how unpredictable, or lethal, the Holy Grail War could be until that moment. For all she was willing to die for her dream, she hadn't realized how terrifyingly _likely_ that possibility really was. Certainly far more than she'd been prepared to accept. But when she thought about it, she could only admonish herself. This was a ritual that would leave one survivor, maybe three at a maximum, and there were _fourteen_ Masters. Going just by the numbers, she was signing her own death warrant for less than a ten percent chance of being able to walk by the end. She might have her natural talent, but as long as there was luck involved…

She cut off that train of thought before it sent her spiraling out of control.

What drove her now was devoid of grandeur. It held no glory like a mage's pride and work. It wasn't even a petty desire like achieving her dream of walking the path of a mage on her own two feet. It was just survival, a base instinct, pushing her forward even now when she just wanted to cry for her fallen partner because there were still two Red Servants in the city and _she did not want to die!_

She could think about trivial matters later. Matters like her grief… or why her Command Seals, though faded, hadn't quite disappeared yet.

Eventually, she finally reached the rendezvous point where she'd left Caules and her homunculi escort, four uniformed soldiers standing at attention beside a long black car. However, she couldn't see the person she was most concerned for.

"Where is my brother?" she demanded.

The lead homunculus curtly stepped forward, her face without expression or emotion. "After Lord Caster's familiars lost track of you and Lord Archer, Lord Caules decided to enter the city himself to find you, my lady. However, when he was unable to enter the fog that had appeared, he attempted to circle around—"

" _Find him!_ " Fiore interrupted. She knew the homunculus was just doing what it was made for and she'd probably feel terrible about cutting it off later, but Archer was dead, her brother wasn't there, and she had to assume that they had all of a few seconds to get out of here before they were forced to make a far more permanent exit, courtesy of the Red Faction. "Have Caster's familiars locate him and—"

"Sister!"

Fiore whirled around, relieved to find her bespectacled brother rushing down the hill, the wispy shape of an evoked spirit beside him. Soon enough, he'd ran up in front of her. "I was so worried. Thank goodness this guy saw you headed in this direction, otherwise we might have never found you—"

"Get in the car, Caules!" Fiore commanded. Normally, she would be lecturing him about disobeying her orders to stay away from the battle and endangering himself but right now there wasn't time. "We need to go before the Red Faction—"

Caules' spirit dog's head suddenly whirled around, dashing across the grass and leaping into the air, only to be ripped apart by a hail of arrows. A blast of air erupted from the impact, kicking up a cloud of dust and knocking Caules and the homunculi off their feet. The sheer force even caused the Bronze Link Manipulator to stumble, craters emerging under its feet from the force it took just to remain upright.

Four more arrows streaked out of the resulting smoke and shot all the homunculi in the chest, blood soaking their white and gold jackets as they slumped to the dirt. The grisly sight mixed seamlessly into the torrent of awful memories whirling ceaselessly through her head.

"No…" Fiore murmured. "Please… not yet…"

She frantically reinforced her eyes and scanned the nearby rooftops of Bucharest, paying specific attention to those in the direction the arrows had come from. It didn't take long to locate their assailant, her bow already nocked and drawn as her majestic beauty shimmered in the moonlight.

Archer of Red. Atalanta, the Chaste Huntress.

"Sister!" Caules cried, foolishly scrambling in front of her and raising his right fist, a soft red glow emanating from the hand. "By my Command Seal, Berserker—"

"Caules, wait!" Fiore shouted, swinging around her brother and lowering his hand. "We need to go, now!"

"What? Fiore, the car can't outpace a Servant!"

"It doesn't need to," she told him, glancing back over her shoulder. The enemy Servant of the Bow stood where she had been, arrow still ready, but unfired. "She's letting us go."

"Letting us go?" Caules squawked. "How can you know that?"

It was the only thing that made sense. Archer had informed her of his last-minute bargain with his opponent right before he'd passed, but that alone wouldn't have been enough to make her believe them safe from their enemy. Except that, if she'd wanted to kill them, she could have slaughtered them in the same round of arrows that had massacred their escort, it hardly made sense to aim for homunculi when there were masters right there. For god's sake, she was a legendary huntress, they wouldn't even have known she was there if she was actually trying to kill them.

Though, even if Atalanta was honorable enough to respect Chiron's final request, it was somewhat strange that she didn't attempt to assassinate Caules. While Fiore could be let go by the less pragmatic participants in the war (something she was confident Kairi Shishigou was _not_ ) now that she'd lost her Servant, her brother was still an active enemy master with a Servant, albeit a rather weak one. No mage would pass up the chance to end him when he was vulnerable, especially when it would put the Black Faction down four Servants to the Red Faction's six.

Regardless, summoning Berserker to them would give Archer of Red no choice but to engage. But if they left now, while her mercy still held and before Shishigou could force her hand, they might be able to make it back to Millenia Citadel alive.

Though, honestly, she wasn't sure if that would be any better for her. She'd never failed Grandfather before, but she'd heard more than enough stories about those who had to fear the consequences.

But if she didn't face him and at least own up to her mistakes, then he was sure to go after her brother, and she would not allow that.

"Get in the car, Caules," she said. "Let's go."

He looked worriedly between her and Archer of Red, before giving her an obedient nod. He went over to the car and got in the driver's side.

Fiore glanced back at Archer of Red standing over the city of Bucharest like a silent sentinel, beautiful but terrifying. The Yggdmillennia mage didn't know if the huntress had slain Chiron herself or if he had fallen victim to Saber of Red or Jack the Ripper, but she supposed it didn't matter. She wanted to hate someone, to have someone to blame and scream at and condemn for the unjust death of her partner and friend.

But she couldn't. To be a mage was to walk with death. This was war, and indeed, living itself. Loss was part of the bargain.

Fiore shuddered; memories of a river filled with so much blood as to be red from bank to bank filling her head. According to Assassin, it was the only part of the bargain. Even Shirou Emiya, apparently so noble, had warped the Ripper's world to fire around him.

She didn't want to believe that. She couldn't believe that. Being a mage, it was all she'd ever wanted, the wonder, the research, the mystery. She'd known that there was horror and… unpleasantness involved, things that made her stomach curl and tears pour from her eyes, but she'd thought that she could stand it, balance it out, somehow.

It was in times like this that she'd recently loved turning to Archer for guidance. But Archer was dead. Now what was she to do?

Fiore kept up a stony face as she entered the car beside her brother, he was technically an allied master, but as they drove off into the night, all she wanted to do was cry for all she'd seen.

* * *

 _ **FATEFATEFATEFATE**_

Atalanta sighed as she lowered her bow, the two Masters of Black driving off into the distance. Inside, every hunter's instinct within her was screaming for her to put arrows through the pair's heads. She had no doubt that Saber and her master would be most displeased if they learned of her actions. The girl may have lost her Servant, but they knew for a fact that the Black Faction had their captured Berserker to gift her…if she could even control the rebellion-obsessed imbecile.

Honestly, she was annoyed with herself. Even putting aside her promise to Archer of Black to look after his master, the boy, Caules Forvedge Yggdmillennia, if the priest's intelligence was correct, was still an active enemy Master. She wouldn't have hesitated to finish what she'd started with Berserker of Black in the Trifas forest if the beast had been summoned, yet she had failed to attack her handler when she was not. Her slaying of the homunculi to force the boy's hand had proven equally ineffective.

She knew why she hadn't fired on the mages. The Sage of Heroes had taken care to invoke that instinct of hers when he'd extracted his promise. Even if they were enemy Masters, Fiore and Caules Forvedge were still children. And she never hurt children. There was no circumstance in which she ever would. Even allowing it to happen in front of her felt like a kind of blasphemy. As ferocious as she might be, even she had certain lines that she refused to cross. Otherwise, the world would truly be the place Assassin of Black thought it to be.

Whatever the consequences of such acts of mercy proved to be, and wherever they led her, she refused to part with that ideal. Not for anything. Otherwise, she wouldn't dare call herself a hero.

She rushed back to Kairi Shishigou, the mercenary close enough that she could keep her word to Saber of Red while also performing her reconnaissance. He leaned against an empty parked car, a burning cigarette in his mouth, half a dozen spent ones littering the cobblestone. Evidently, he'd had just as unpleasant a time in Assassin's world as the rest of them.

"She dead?" he asked, obviously referring to Fiore.

Atalanta shook her head. "She escaped. Her escort's defense was… surprisingly potent."

Shishigou cocked an eyebrow. "A defense powerful enough to stop you?"

"The Black Faction has been preparing for this war for sixty years," Atalanta reminded him. The best lies were based on the truth. "It is not inconceivable that they have created tools to counter Servants."

"Right," Shishigou replied. "Well then, be sure to let the priest know about this 'defense'. We wouldn't want any of the others to be caught off guard."

Atalanta narrowed her eyes. "Of course."

He didn't believe her. That at once came as a relief to the huntress, foolish allies only got in her way, and worried her. After all, if he inquired to his Servant about the end of the battle with Archer of Black and learned of her promise, it would be troublesome if he disclosed it to the priest or her master. Nothing debilitating but knowing that her master was a mage- if nothing else about them- the chances of them taking kindly to that act of mercy were abysmal. They would likely demand that she discard such notions and slaughter the children herself to make up for her failure. Mages were almost nauseatingly vindictive creatures like that. She'd refuse, naturally, but doing so would likely result in them forcing her to do it with a Command Seal. And if that were to happen, her only other choice would be to kill her Master, and that would put her wish at risk.

No, for now, it would be best if Shishigou remained silent. Fortunately, if he was smart enough to tell she was lying, he was likely also smart enough to use it as leverage. Killing him outright would be foolish at the current stage, the Black Faction was hardly beaten, so she'd manage whatever blackmail he demanded. Then, once Yggdmilennia was destroyed, she'd put an arrow through his head.

A rush of thunder drew her out of her musings. Saber of Red's armor dissipated off her in a flash of crimson lightning, revealing both her gaping wounds from the battle with Chiron and the deep scowl marring her face. She stomped passed Atalanta and her master, her fist coming down to crumple the chassis of an unsuspecting car like papier-mache.

"I take it that it didn't go too well," Shishigou said.

Saber growled. "I chased after father's _prana_ signature as soon as it reappeared. But by the time I got there, he had already _fled_."

"Why didn't you catch him?" Atalanta asked. "Even if he is faster than you, he shouldn't have been able to use his full speed without abandoning his human companions."

"They had a mount," Saber bit out. She pointed vigorously to her wound. "And I have a hole in my stomach! From saving _you_!"

Atalanta sighed. "Apologies. I do appreciate your assistance."

"You are so not welcome that it's not even funny," Saber scoffed, promptly resuming her sulking. "Father insults me. To flee from battle, as if I wasn't even worth the effort!"

"Or maybe, he didn't think he could win," Shishigou suggested. "Ever think of that? It's not like he'd know about the licks you two took fighting Archer of Black. Since you thrashed Emiya, he'd be facing a two on one fight."

Atalanta nodded. It made sense. A Servant's constitution had its benefits, but her broken leg had only just healed enough for her to walk on it. She wouldn't dare attempt serious combat and Mordred's wounds would need even more time. They'd be fine by sunset, but not before.

"As if I'd ever let anyone interfere in a duel with father," Mordred shouted, sending a warning glare towards Atalanta. "I am the only knight to ever surpass him. I don't need anyone trying to muddy my victory."

"As you wish," the huntress frowned. She'd already tried to bond with her teammate. If the brute didn't want to be friendly, she wouldn't force her to be. In the end, they would both have to kill each other for the Grail.

Shishigou sighed, a puff of smoke rising from his mouth. "Archer, the priest's gearing everyone up for an attack on Trifas, right?"

"That's correct. I was supposed to return to Sighisoara once we were finished here and join up with the main assault team."

"Back to Sighisoara, huh?" the mercenary mumbled. "Seems a bit far for a rallying point. You'd think they'd meet up somewhere closer to Trifas."

Atalanta shrugged. "I cannot speak for the priest's tactics, but that witch of his is inscrutable. You can be certain that she has come up with some means of approaching together. What it is however, is beyond me."

"Well, if you ask me, you're better off. I don't even wanna know what that leering devil's thinking," Saber huffed. She shot Atalanta a weak wave. "Well then, be seeing you, Archer. Try to take an enemy Servant with you before you bite it."

"Not so fast, Saber," Shishigou interceded, an altogether too pleased grin on his face.

The crimson knight raised an eyebrow, seeming to look for some hint on her Master's face as to what he was getting at. Atalanta herself was confused by his comment, and his smirk was nothing short of infuriating, bringing back memories of Jason. Specifically of such times as when he got it into his head that he'd come up with a brilliant scheme that he'd swear up and down was genius, right up until he was running away screaming from whatever new monster he'd unwittingly set upon them.

"What do you have in mind?"

"Well, like you said, the Black Faction has been preparing for this war for decades. Wouldn't it make for a far more effective assault if we attacked from two fronts?" Shishigou's smile fell. "Besides, none of us should be alone right now. Not with the Periwinkle Faction still out there."

"They fled to tend to their injuries. If they were to recover and returned to finish what they started, they would be an issue for the two of you. I would already be back at the church," Atalanta said. "Besides, I thought you wanted to work alone."

"We do!" Saber shouted, glaring at her master. "What? Do you not think I can take father?"

Shishigou held his hands up placatingly. "Of course not. You've been preparing to fight him your entire life. So… eight years, right?"

Atalanta's ears perked up. Eight years? _What_?

"Ten!" Saber yelled back.

"Exactly," Kairi said. "But your old man isn't weak, is he?"

"Of course not! The Kin—" Saber glanced at Atalanta and caught herself before she said more. "Father is the finest warrior who ever lived! Other than me, obviously."

"Which means you'll need to focus on him to give him the fight you both deserve," Shishigou pointed out. "Leaving me vulnerable to Emiya. And I've got no shame in saying I can't beat a guy who spawns Noble Phantasms out of thin air, especially when he'll have backup from Tohsaka."

"Which means you'll need a bodyguard," Saber grumbled. "Fine, Master. But no more graveyards after this, got it?"

"Eh, no promises."

"Great. So, how's about it. Archer? You gonna stick with us a little longer—"

"You're ten years old," Atalanta whispered, seeing the abrasive knight in a whole new light. "You're only a child?"

"What?! I—are you seri—how dare y—I am not a child!" roared Saber, "I'm a _knight!_ Just because my mother accelerated my growth doesn't mean I'm not— _ACK!_ What the hell are you doing?!"

Atalanta had intervened during Saber's rant to wrap her in a tight embrace. For someone who prided herself on her perception, she felt ashamed of herself for missing something that had been staring her in the face for more than twenty-four hours.

Looking back, it seemed almost obvious that the Servant of the Sword's various aggressive outbursts were symptomatic of a child starved for attention. She sought to use the Grail to wipe such injustice from the face of the Earth—to ensure that all children everywhere would be loved as they were meant to. This was a child that had never received the love and care that she had always deserved. Already she could feel righteous fury blazing under her skin, for both this mother who had robbed her of a proper childhood and the apparent 'father' that even now sought to avoid her.

"Well then, I guess you're sticking with us then," Shishigou smirked.

On some level, Atalanta was aware that he was using his Servant's status to manipulate her, but at least for the moment, that didn't matter. A child needed her help. "I will inform the priest of the change of plans."

"What?" Saber exclaimed. "No! I do not need—" she and Shishigou shared a long look. It was probably another telepathic conversation, like at the café. A hopeful smile suddenly crossed the knight's face. "Oh. Well, Archer, if you're going to be working with us, perhaps as a show of trust, you should let me… you know…"

She slipped an arm out of the hug and pointed at Atalanta's head, her request obvious.

The huntress winced. For an arrogant braggart, she might have pulled away, but for a child in need… "Fine, you may touch them. _Once_. I cannot have you constantly—"

" _Eeeee_!"

It was incredibly strange to see the merciless, arrogant, and boisterous Saber of Red squee like the child she evidently was over something so mundane. Her hands shot up to Atalanta's head and began petting her lion ears. She was actually a little surprised at how gentle the hyperactive Servant was being.

"They're so fluffy," Saber whispered reverently, a gargantuan and uncharacteristically innocent smile shining in the night.

Atalanta knew she should have been indignant at being treated like a common animal, even more so as she noticed that the smirk on Shishigou's face made it all too clear that he saw this as a personal victory. He had almost certainly planned this.

Whatever her sympathies may have been, or what alliances temporarily held them, she was bound to her oath to her Master and that made her, in the end, the roguish pair's enemy. Eventually, one of them would have to die, either by another's hand or each other. And she had little doubt Saber would annihilate her when given the chance.

But, watching the troubled, furious mask melt away from Saber's face, watching a lonely, tormented child indulge in the simple, pure joy that should have been her right, the huntress found she couldn't much care at the moment.

Maybe it was a sentiment that not all could appreciate or even understand, but to her, this was what it meant to be a hero. It wasn't slaying venomous hydras, or venturing into the underworld to save one's lover, or even landing the first arrow to pierce the hide of a rampaging demon boar. It was the simple act of putting a smile on a child's face.

* * *

 _ **FATEFATEFATEFATE**_

Rin sighed as the sun crested the horizon, exhaustion finally claiming her as she removed her glowing hands from Shirou's sleeping form. Off by the motorcycle, Saber diligently stood watch.

After Assassin of Black's demise, the Blue Faction had returned to the world from Shirou's Reality Marble. However, they had been unable to sense Archer of Black's _prana_ signature within the city, only being greeted by the pair of Red Servants' presences. Unlike previously, Saber had been perfectly willing to confront Mordred, something about Jack the Ripper convincing her that she should not put off seeing her son any longer. Of course, when Shirou had started wobbling, his injuries from his own brief encounter with Mordred finally outstripping his titanic stubbornness, she and Rin had made a joint decision to get to safety immediately. They could have the family reunion when they weren't injured and outnumbered.

Shirou had passed out in the sidecar, the adrenaline finally gone from his system. Blood continued to pour from the wounds on his arm while a single line trickled from the corner of his mouth. Rin had spent the remaining hours before the dawn healing him up, using a gem just to be sure. Combined with the three she'd used to hold Jack in place, she was down to fifteen, though she would be able to recharge the most recent one if she got the chance. But even if she'd lost it for good, that was more than a fair price to make sure her boyfriend was alright.

Honestly, she found herself feeling strangely proud of him. At one time, he would have gone looking to fight Mordred so Saber wouldn't have to, or something equally idiotic. It said a lot about his unfortunate mental state before the Fifth War that something like basic self-preservation was considered an improvement. Especially since he'd gotten out of the way when help had arrived.

Though, she was more than a bit confused about what to do with said help now.

They'd made camp in a small meadow a few hundred miles away from Bucharest, a bit close to Trifas for Rin's liking, but they still had the rest of the day until their truce with Yggdmillennia ended. Come nightfall Darnic would no doubt come for them, but until then the proximity to his fortress would give the Red Faction pause if they somehow managed to track them to the middle of nowhere.

Sieg was curled up against a small hill, wrapped in a blanket with Rider of Black's sword laid above his knees. The homunculus' scarlet eyes stared aimlessly into the grass, the morning breeze ruffling his hair into his face, obscuring his vision if he'd actually been looking at anything.

"You should get some sleep too," Rin told him. "We've all been through a lot tonight."

"A lot. Yes…" Sieg mumbled. He finally picked up his head to look at her. "Thank you for saving me from Assassin."

"Don't mention it," Rin replied. "You saved Shirou from Mordred. That was just us returning the favor."

"You don't owe me any favor… you and Rider and Ruler… all of you saved me from—"

"Okay, let's stop talking about who did what," Rin interrupted him. "We all helped each other and that's very nice, but that's it. You don't owe us anything, so you can just go back to Serge's and get out of the war. You don't have to come help us."

Sieg looked away guiltily. "I didn't actually come to help you. I came to ask for your help."

Rin cocked an eyebrow, sharing a brief look of surprise with Saber before they both returned their gaze to the homunculus. "With what? Ruler declared you off limits for anyone in the war, but if you get involved of your own free will, she won't be able to save you. Yggdmillennia will come for you."

"I know that," the boy declared. "But they have the other homunculi. When I was escaping the castle with Rider, the others allowed me to go without chasing me or alerting the members of the family. They're suffering just as I would have, except they didn't get as lucky. I want… I thought wanted to make it so they didn't have to."

Rin sighed. "Guess Shirou was right to be worried about you taking after him."

"Want _ed_?" Saber said, walking over to Rin's side. "You spoke in the past tense. Have you decided against it?"

"I… I don't know," Sieg confessed. "I want to help them. But after seeing Jack the Ripper, what they saw of the world…"

"I'm going to stop you right there," Rin interrupted. "What Assassin of Black made you see, it was an illusion, designed to make the world seem as horrible as possible. What she was doing could be compared to a predator playing with her food. Once you couldn't resist, she started hitting you where it would hurt the most. I'm not going to say places like that don't exist, because they do. But that isn't what the whole world is like."

"I know," Sieg glanced over to Saber. "When I saw your sword, the light… it was so warm, so… golden. A thing like that, so beautiful, how could it exist if the world was so horrible?"

"It is in a place so horrible that it must exist," the King of Knights declared. "It is a fragile thing, but if maintained, it can help one conquer armies."

The homunculus boy frowned. "It's all so strange, and contradictory. Is it all chance, whether someone suffers like Assassin or becomes good like you all? If it is, is it the right thing to put the others at the mercy of that chance?"

"Okay, stop. Back up and take a deep breath," Rin commanded, forcing Sieg to look her in the eye. He was so lost, like a child without its mother. She certainly knew how that felt. "You've seen two very different extremes of human nature in a very short time. You need to understand that most humans are not like Assassin's world or Saber's sword. They're just… human."

"And is that good or bad?"

Rin shrugged. "It just is. Most people are motivated by self-interest."

"Mr. Emi—Shirou isn't."

"He is," Rin frowned. "Just differently than most people."

From an outsider's perspective, it was easy to view Shirou as idiotically selfless, and he was. But that selflessness was born out of a desperate selfishness. After all, he threw everything away to survive that fire all those years ago. The only source of happiness he had was from helping others. If he didn't have that, would he even feel like he had a reason to live?

She'd been trying to help him, and he had gotten better over the years. But it was still a work in progress.

Still, she wouldn't give up on him. Seeing Excalibur again, seeing her past, how happy she'd been with her father, her mother, and… her sister. She wouldn't lose anyone else, not if she could help it.

She'd kept tabs on Sakura after she'd left for England, her excuse being that she needed to keep an eye on Shinji. Making sure the old nuisance didn't make another mess was all well and good, but he seemed to have honestly gotten his act together since the Grail War. Being consumed by the Grail had likely been extremely traumatic for him, and she'd be surprised if he wasn't suffering from night terrors. But if he had actually been humbled by that, it would just make things easier for Sakura.

Her father would have scolded her for watching over the girl who had once been her family, would say it was unbecoming of a proper mage, but she couldn't help it, and it wasn't like she hadn't been doing that for years already. Besides, as much as she respected her father, he clearly hadn't been right about everything. He'd trusted Kirei after all. And she'd survived by doing things that no proper mage would have ever even considered.

Sakura would be graduating from Homurahara at the end of the year. Taiga had already sent Shirou invitations to the ceremony. Maybe she could tag along and…

No, she was getting ahead of herself. They had to survive the Great Holy Grail War before she could think of anything like that. Which meant winning, with every asset they could get their hands on.

"It's about obligation. Obligations make people do things that are generally not in their own self-interest," Rin explained. "I know you feel like you have to save the other homunculi, but you need to understand the cost. If you do this, more likely than not, you're going to die, maybe before you've achieved anything. The life that you wanted so badly… you'll never get it."

Sieg's brow furrowed in thought. "Perhaps. But… an obligation? No, I'm being selfish here."

Saber cocked an eyebrow. "You seek to liberate your people, and you believe you're being selfish?"

"I am. After all, I don't have enough power to do it by myself, so I'm asking you to join me, even though I have nothing that I can give you in return. And in the end, what am I even giving them. I would just be pulling them away from certainty and throwing them into a sea of unknowns."

"A certainty of servitude and possible death," Rin pointed out.

Sieg shrugged. "It is true that it is a different affliction. But that doesn't mean that I would not be throwing them into another. This world, this uncertainty, I would condemn them to it, an existence that I'm not even sure is better than the one I first awoke in. And I'd do it, because I do want to learn more about it, to find out if I would… enjoy living in it. But I know I will never be able to make that decision if my concern for them always haunts my mind. That is why I want to free them. Is that _not_ selfishness?"

For a moment, Rin and Saber could only stare at him in complete befuddlement.

' _Saber… did that… make sense?'_

" _In a way, master. But it was a way that required a great deal of mental gymnastics."_

' _Thought so. Dear god, there's two of them now.'_

"Alright," Rin said out loud. "Despite the fact that we seriously need to work on your definition of 'selfish', at least you know what you want to do. We'll figure out how we're going to actually do it after a good night—well, not a night at this point, but after we get some sleep."

Sieg's eyes widened with hope. "You mean you'll help me?"

Rin smiled. "Better than sending you to get captured by yourself. And removing the homunculi as a power source will be a huge blow to the Black Faction. Gordes at the very least won't be able to fully power his Servant without their support. Who knows, maybe it'll even put a kink in Lancer's fighting style."

"Thank you!" Sieg exclaimed. "Thank you so much! I know I'm already asking for far too much after everything you've—"

"Don't thank us," Rin said. "This isn't a favor, this is recruitment. If you're determined to get yourself back into this mess, it might as well be on our side. Welcome to the Blue Faction."

The homunculus was taken aback for a moment before he nodded solemnly. "I won't make you regret it."

"With any luck," Rin muttered. "Now get some rest, leader's orders. You may have been engineered but you still need sleep."

Sieg nodded and laid down across the grass, curling up in his blanket before closing his eyes.

Rin sighed, rising to her feet just as the myriad orange of dawn crept over the horizon. Saber frowned at their newest team member.

"Are you sure about this, Rin?" she asked. "The boy has a good heart, but he has no combat experience. I'm honestly baffled that he survived Mordred."

The Tohsaka mage ran her hands down her face. "He'll have to work with what he's got. He's going to do this with or without our help. At least this way we can try to keep him from dying for nothing and get something out it. Besides it's not like he's completely powerless."

Both women stared at the Black Command Seals on the homunculus' hand, now with two strokes instead of three.

Rin almost hadn't believed Shirou when he'd told them what they'd done. To turn a living person into a Heroic Spirit, it was insane. Barring _extremely_ rare compatibility, it should have incinerated the host before even a single second had passed, and that was without taking into account the absurd amount of _prana_ it would take to sustain a Heroic Spirit at full power without a master.

But it did make a certain amount of sense. Sieg was a homunculus, a blank slate that had literally been implanted with Siegfried's heart. He had been designed to be a _prana_ battery. The former would give him the required compatibility and the latter would give him enough energy to last maybe a minute or so, less if he used the Noble Phantasm.

"He has power," Saber conceded. "But that does not mean he has the skill to use it. Siegfried's instincts might aid him to some extent, but it may not be enough in the end. Even if Shirou uses the seals he was given as well."

Rin frowned, glancing at where her lover laid, his own Black Command Seals plain to see in the same pattern as those he'd wielded when he'd commanded Saber, a loose diamond pattern, almost shaped like a sword.

Saber noticed Rin's concern. "He'll be fine. Your master wouldn't have given him them if he thought he couldn't handle them."

"We both know who he'll turn into."

"That may prove beneficial. Their skills are the same and the added physical abilities will enable him to avoid a repeat of what happened with Mordred."

"But to actually _become_ him…" Rin muttered. Even without Ruler's revelation practically spelling it out, there was only one Heroic Spirit Shirou could possibly have enough compatibility with to become. And he was the one person in the world Shirou feared becoming most. More than that, she'd made a promise to make sure that never happened. To both of them.

Saber placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Just because he will wear Archer's features does not mean he will adopt his ideals. He will still be Shirou."

"So is Archer," Rin pointed out, inwardly cursing the complexities of alternate timelines. "He's Shirou at his most broken. And if Shirou takes his form, he'll have to draw from his Unlimited Bladeworks."

"But he won't be him," Saber assured her. "It took hundreds of years for Archer to give up, did it not?"

The mage sighed. "I know, it's just… maybe I should lay down too. I'm worrying too much."

"Sleep. I'll keep watch," Saber promised. "We can discuss our next move once you're all rested."

Rin nodded gratefully at her friend. Then she laid down in the grass and curled up into Shirou's side.

Whatever challenges were lurking ahead, it could wait while she shut her eyes.

* * *

 _ **FATEFATEFATEFATE**_

Siegfried frowned at the gathered ranks of Yggdmillenia. Though he was grateful to be out of the dungeon, if for no other reason than the proof his release provided of his improved relationship with his master, he found the atmosphere of the throne room to be no less oppressive, more so in fact with Rider still imprisoned.

"You failed to retrieve Assassin," Lord Darnic stated bluntly, glaring down on Lady Fiore from the royal dais.

"Yes," the wheelchair-bound girl meekly admitted, her head bowed in supplication.

"And you allowed Archer to be slain."

Lady Fiore's hands tightened, likely in grief for her slain partner, but she did not raise her head. "Yes."

"Pathetic!" Lady Celenike snarled from the sidelines. "To think you wasted one of our knight classes, you filthy little tramp—"

"You'll stop your tongue from flapping if you know what's best for you, Celenike," Lord Gordes warned, his magic circuits glowing as his arm turned to steel.

Siegfried allowed himself a faint smile. Temperamental though his Master could be, he was fond of Lady Fiore and Lord Caules. Perhaps they reminded him of his own son who had been sent away for his own safety for the duration of the war. He found that he was somewhat disappointed that he would not have the opportunity to meet his Master's family, but the alternative was for them to be put in harm's way during the coming battles. There was no question that this was a price well worth paying, even if his Master's clearer virtues were left somewhat obscured as a result.

Lady Celenike only leered at his threat, the black glimmer of a _gandr_ curse crackling at the edge of her ever-inappropriate pointing stick. "I suppose you _would_ defend her. Failures tend to band together like vermin, don't they?"

"Enough," Lord Vlad spoke, his voice seeming to chill the air in the audience chamber, and as casual as his tone had been, it left no question about how dire the consequences would be if anyone failed to heed his command. Lord Gordes and Lady Celenike dispelled their respective attacks, the former with a loud gulp, the latter with a soft 'tch,' looking for all the world like she wanted to stomp up to the throne and spit in the king's face. With the conflicts settled for the moment, their faction leader turned his attention back to Lady Fiore. "This is… unfortunate news."

"It wasn't her fault," Lord Caules protested, stepping forward despite Berserker reaching out to pull him back. "Assassin lured her and Archer into a trap! I should have found a way in to help her—"

"Are you saying that this disaster is of your making?" Lord Darnic growled, turning his furious glare on the younger Forvedge.

"No!" Fiore shouted, raising her head at last. She glared at Caules until her brother retreated back to his Servant before turning to face Lord Darnic. "The events at Bucharest were my fault alone. I underestimated the enemy and Archer paid the price."

Lord Darnic's eyes narrowed. "I see. How… disappointing. I expected better of you, Fiore."

From the way the young lady's face paled, it seemed like she'd just been stabbed. Siegfried's instincts screamed at him to move forward, to defend the young maiden threatened by the dragon, for despite the fealty he owed the leader of Yggdmillenna he could think of no other term to describe the malevolence radiating off him at that moment. He saw sweat trickle down his Master's forehead, Lord Gordes' fists clenching in terror. The knight did not know if he would have the sense to give a necessary command if events took a lethal turn.

Fortunately, Lancer's voice cut through the room before anything truly deadly could take place. "Calm yourself, Fiore. You failed in honest effort and have taken responsibility for your error. More importantly, you lived to fight another day."

The young girl warily nodded at the King of Romania. "I did, my lord. But Archer…"

"Fell in combat, as befits a Servant of his caliber. Moreover, as an instructor, he would not wish for his pupil to drown herself in self-pity," Lancer comforted her. "We must move forward, my lady. Or Chiron truly _will_ have died for nothing."

Lady Fiore took a deep breath before steeling her face. "Yes. Of course, your majesty."

Lancer gifted her an almost grandfatherly smile. "Caster, how soon will Berserker of Red be recontracted?"

Avicebron turned his faceless mask to the Lord Impaler. "I should be finished by tonight. Though, given his legend, I doubt it will do much to bring him under our control. His will is too strong."

Lord Vlad smirked. "Then it shall be up to Fiore to bring him to heel."

Darnic's eyes narrowed. "My lord, are you sure?"

"I am. You yourself have praised her abilities more than once, master. Has this single failure undone all of her achievements? Would you throw away an entire harvest because you found a bent stalk of wheat?"

"Oh please, it was an _Assassin!_ " Celenike mocked. "It should have had no combat ability whatsoever!"

Lord Vlad glared at the curse mage. "Did you not listen to the report at all? Or have you assumed that our opponents in the Red and Blue Factions are completely incompetent? Assassin's activities have been known to the public for days now. Our foes did not send weaklings to eliminate our rampaging Servant. Assassin itself was a failure. And if I may be blunt, was Assassin's Master not an apprentice to _your_ family's teachings, _Lady Celenike?_ "

"Ho-How dare you!" the lady sputtered, somehow breaking through the terror of the Lord Impaler's rage. "I refuse to be held accountable for that imbecile Sagara's complete and utter inability to control his Servant!"

"Indeed," Lancer continued. "And one failure against skilled opponents is hardly cause for a complete loss of faith."

"But no faith will bind Berserker of Red," Caster interceded. "It may be best to use Spartacus as a weapon rather than an ally. I believe I have a task that Lady Fiore can assist me with as well."

"What?" Lord Roche exclaimed. "Come on, teacher. If you need help with something, I can help you way better than she could."

"Perhaps, master," Caster said. "But many hands make light work."

Avicebron's words were calm and measured as always. Rational, one would say. And yet, Siegfried couldn't help the shiver that ran down his spine.

Fortunately, Lord Vlad waved the golem maker's concerns aside, returning his gaze to the mage before him. "Lady Fiore, do you believe you can bring Berserker of Red to heel?"

"I do not know, your majesty," the wheelchair-bound girl confessed, looking the king straight in his harsh eyes. "But I will find a way. I desire the Holy Grail and if this is the only way back into the fight, I will not fail."

Lancer smirked. "Excellent. Then it is decided. Bring Spartacus under your control. If you cannot, then Caster will do with him as he wills."

"I understand, my lord," Fiore said, bowing in respect. "Thank you for this second chance."

She rolled out of the center of the chamber, coming to the side of her brother and Berserker of Black.

All the way, Darnic's dark eyes never left her back.

"Well then," the leader of the faction said. "With that dealt with, we face a much more pressing matter. With Chiron gone, we are left without a suitable counter to his student."

Ah, yes. After Siegfried and Frankenstein's confrontation with Rider of Red in the woods, Archer of Black had seen fit to inform the entire faction of their opponent's True Name. Achilles, champion of the Trojan War and one of the most well-known, and subsequently powerful, heroes in the Throne. Without divinity, it would be nearly impossible to harm him, let alone defeat him.

Lord Vlad frowned. "Indeed. In theory, my stakes could strike his heel and disable his defenses but given the speed and skill he has demonstrated thus far, which according to Archer was far from his full power, that may be a task easier said than done. Especially if he has support from the rest of the Red Faction during the battle."

"An area of effect attack might be our best chance," Lord Darnic suggested. "As long as the heel is struck, his defenses would go down. Either of our Berserkers are capable of such a feat. Caules, are you and Frankenstein prepared to execute such a maneuver?"

"Well, yeah," the bespectacled boy confirmed. "But to fire off enough lightning to be sure we'd hit a target that small and fast; Berserker would have to stay incredibly close. He could just run away once the attack starts, and even if he didn't, it'd be suicide."

"So, we must discover a way to paralyze him," Lord Darnic said with a frown. "How vexing."

Siegfried did not miss how the lord made no mention of Frankenstein's unavoidable death if they went with that tactic. Nor did he miss Lord Caules and his Servant frown at the omission.

The dragon slayer knight had no desire for his comrades to perish, even if it would slay their seemingly insurmountable foe. And based on what he'd seen from Achilles during their duel, it would not. But Lord Darnic did not seem to care. He was an orthodox mage. He did not care who had to be sacrificed to achieve his goals.

Though, the lord's callous attitude towards the task did not change the fact that it needed to be done. As much as Siegfried despised the notion, entertaining such brutal methods was looking to be their only option. Lancer of Red was already a titanic enough threat as it was. If another of the enemy Servants were practically invincible, the Black Faction was done for. And without Chiron, they had no one with the divine nature necessary to… divine…

That was it.

' _Master.'_

" _What is it, Saber? Can't you see we're in a crisis?! Darnic is five minutes away from snapping and if we don't come up with some good news soon, he might just kill someone to relieve the stress—"_

' _I have a strategy to defeat Rider of Red.'_

"… _What?"_

' _It is not perfect, and it carries its own set of dangers. But I believe it to be our best chance.'_

" _You 'believe it to be', huh? Because that's gone so well so far."_

' _Master, please. I promised to help you fight this war. This is how.'_

…

' _Master?'_

…

…

…

" _Oh, to hell with it. Not like things'll get worse."_

Siegfried grinned. It was slow going, but he was repairing his relationship with his master. He quickly informed him of the strategy.

' _Well, master? What are your thoughts?'_

" _That plan is asinine! You would empower one enemy in the hopes that they would defeat another! Why not just set them against each other as they are?"_

' _Because as the King of Knights is, she cannot win.'_

" _So, she'll die!"_

' _Yes, she will die. And we will still have Rider of Red to deal with.'_

" _Ergh…"_

' _What is better, master? To face a foe that is completely invincible, or one that is nearly invincible, and you possess a crucial advantage over?'_

"… _God damn it. Fine. Put it out there. Hopefully Darnic won't flay me alive for you suggesting it."_

Siegfried chuckled. _'Thank you, master. Your faith will not go unrewarded.'_

" _I hope not. For both our sakes."_

The Dragon Slayer stepped forward into the center of the throne room, all eyes, both master and Servant turning to him.

"Saber?" Lancer said. "Something to say?"

"Indeed, my lord," Siegfried replied. "I believe I have a solution for dealing with Rider of Red."

* * *

 _ **FATEFATEFATEFATE**_

"Yo! Priest! Where the hell are you?!"

Shirou sighed, furling over the arcane documents he'd been rifling through in his quarters of the Hanging Gardens. The study was sparse, but efficient, containing only a bed, as plain as he could convince Semiramis to allow in her domain, a few chairs, a desk, a plain wooden cross on the wall, and a fully stocked bookshelf. His Servant had balked at her master utilizing such a drab room while in her realm, finding such a thing an insult to his station and by extension her, but the priest did not mind. He had no use for luxury, only the tools needed to bring about salvation.

His left hand chose that moment to cramp, still testy from the other day's operation. The Mage's Association's package had arrived right on schedule, but Ruler's swift approach had forced them to relocate from Sighisoara sooner than he would have liked. His Noble Phantasm gave him access to every type of magecraft and so inserting such a specialization inside his being was unpleasant, but he was sure the unpleasantness would fade in time. Besides, if all went well and the Periwinkle Faction agreed to his terms, it wouldn't be within him for long.

He opened his door, spotting the one who'd called for him. "I'm here, Rider. Is something bothering you?"

The Hero of the Trojan War rounded on him. "You could say that. Caster's been going around spouting about how we're going to head out soon."

Shirou raised an eyebrow. "I don't understand how that is an issue. We will be setting out for Trifas shortly—"

"But Missy ain't back yet," Rider protested. "What? Are you leaving her in the wind?"

"We are not leaving her…" Shirou sighed. "Assassin didn't tell you."

"Tell me what?"

"Archer requested to remain with Saber and her master," Shirou informed him. "Semiramis was supposed to tell you, but—"

"But she wanted to be coy with you," Achilles rolled his eyes, though Shirou had no idea what he was talking about. Semiramis was a reliable friend and partner. Why would she ever feel the need to be 'coy' with him?

"Anyway," the hero continued. "you sure Saber will have her back? Missy can more than take care of herself, but there's no telling what'll come up out there."

"I agree. That is why her master and I consented to her request," Shirou replied. "With the Periwinkle Faction out there, we can't afford risking any of our Servants before we attack Trifas. Saber and her master refuse to rendezvous with us before the battle, so the best we can do is provide them with backup so there aren't vulnerable. They should strike tonight along with the rest of us."

Achilles scowled. "Alright then. Guess if anyone can keep them out of trouble, it's missy." A cocky smirk lit his face. "And hey, this'll give us some good stories to swap once we meet up again."

Shirou chuckled. Juvenile as the Servant of the Mount could seem at times, there was something infectious about his energy.

"Lancer and Caster are already in the throne room. Would you please join them?" he requested. "I will track down Assassin and meet with you shortly."

Achilles cringed at the mention of Caster. "Lancer's stuck alone with that oaf? Can't say I'm in a hurry to join him, but I guess it would hardly be heroic to leave him out to dry."

"No, I suppose not."

With that, Achilles set off down the gargantuan halls of the Hanging Gardens.

Shirou only had to wait a moment before a shimmer of blue dust materialized into his Servant beside him.

"You requested my presence, master?" Semiramis said with a smirk.

"Why did you not inform Rider of Archer's reassignment?" Shirou inquired. "You know he cares for her. If he believes we are discounting her, it may make him unruly. We can't afford another Berserker."

"My apologies, master. It honestly slipped my mind," Assassin replied. "With Ruler closing in, I thought a better use of my time to finish the Gardens as soon as possible. Was I wrong?"

Shirou sighed. "No. No, you were not. But let me know if you have other matters to attend to next time. That way I can pass the task on to Caster."

"If you did that, he'd probably set Rider against you on purpose," Semiramis mused. "Though speaking of our Berserker issue, I can't help but notice you looking into a solution on that front."

"I am."

Semiramis frowned. "And you did not inform me. When you summoned me, you said that you wanted a partner to help realize your dream. Was that a lie?"

Shirou cringed, recalling what he'd been investigating in his study just moments before. "No. I did not inform you because I did not know if what I was looking into held any promise. And like you said, you were scrambling to complete the gardens."

"An empress does not 'scramble'," Semiramis huffed. "And I would far prefer researching such mysteries than being a glorified messenger."

"My apologies," Shirou said, bowing slightly to reinforce his gesture. He really had meant nothing by it and while he was sure Assassin was just making a show of the affair, he found that he did not want to even pretend to alienate her. She was his partner in his quest and she had yet to let him down. However slight his own infraction, he owed her better.

Fortunately, she preened at his supplication. "You are forgiven, master. Be glad that your efforts thus far have pleased me despite this error."

Shirou chuckled as he rose up. "I am grateful. I couldn't do this without you by my side."

Assassin turned away from him slightly, her cheeks a bit red for some reason. "So, did your efforts yield fruit?"

"Perhaps. I won't know for sure until I can more closely examine the Greater Grail itself, but… it is possible the Third Faction's presence has provided us with an opportunity."

"Perfect," Semiramis smirked, a haughty chuckled escaping her mouth. "The _Periwinkle_ Faction's existence shall be their own undoing."

"Again, perhaps," Shirou replied. "Let us pray it does not come to that."

Semiramis rolled her eyes. "Of course, master. But in the meantime, Ruler is nearly upon us. And the destruction of the Black Faction awaits."

Shirou nodded. He held out his arm like any polite gentlemen. "Well then, shall we take off, Empress of Assyria?"

Semiramis took his elbow and smiled. "Indeed, master. Let's."

They strode down to the throne room and soon the Hanging Gardens soared through the orange dawn sky. Come nightfall, they would arrive in Trifas and Millenia Citadel would burn.

* * *

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 **Thank you for Reading! I hope you enjoy what comes next!**

 **Go Forth and Conquer!**


	15. Chapter 14

**August Poll Chapter!**

 **Apologies for the short delay. Both Draconic and I moved into college this past week, him for the first time, and it delayed the final edits of this chapter a bit.**

 **If you wish to support me, please check out my P a treon for teasers of future stories, story ideas and more: p a Treon.(c om) (backslash) themaster4444**

 **Beta-ed by Draconic**

* * *

"Please if you'll just listen—"

"The words of the Oppressor are a poison to the oppressed! But my will cannot be broken, Oppressor!"

"N-No, that's not what I—"

"Ahahahahahaaah! Even _you_ will learn the power of _Spartacus! The oppressors shall fall!_ "

Darnic made no attempt to hide his glare as he watched Fiore's pathetic attempts to reason with the irrational Servant on the lower level of Caster's workshop. She sat before Berserker of Red, the boisterous madman bound to a wall by innumerable mystical seals and golems, yet still ranting his nonsense about 'oppression'. Normally, the leader of Yggdmillennia would never have subjected himself to such irritating nonsense for a moment longer than he had to, but at the moment he found his disappointment in his heir to be far greater than his distaste for her new Heroic Spirit.

Fiore, the one member of his faction that supposed to be competent, the one mage who was actually supposed to be able to hold her own against the Clock Tower's agents, had failed him completely and utterly. She'd been routed, and her Servant, an absolutely _critical_ element in their strategy, had been slain. Now their only hope of dealing with Rider of Red was Siegfried's asinine scheme or to hope that they were outrageously lucky on the battlefield. But as Lancer had pointed out during the meeting, they could not rely solely on luck to defeat their enemies, a fact Darnic could not contest.

His carefully cultivated plan, sixty years in the making—sixty long years of plotting, strategizing, making contingencies on contingencies—was collapsing around him and it was all because the one piece he'd needed to be competent had proven herself distinctly otherwise. Whether it was her soft heart as he'd feared or something else, his heir had proven herself unworthy. Why Lancer had decided she was deserving of a second chance was beyond him. A tool that had failed to accomplish its purpose was a tool best disposed of. Or better yet, repurposed for something more useful.

He hardly acknowledged Avicebron as the golem maker came up beside him. For a few moments, the pair stood in silence watching Fiore flounder in corralling the Servant of Madness.

"Where do you place her chances of success?" Caster inquired.

"Nowhere," Darnic answered without a moment of hesitation. "This entire endeavor is a waste of time. Time we could be using to bring your Noble Phantasm online."

"So, you concur?" Avicebron said. "I was under the impression that you were… fond of her."

"I was fond of a young woman who could perform her duties as a mage," Darnic replied. "I had thought her capable of such a task, but it seems she is as useless as the rest of the garbage."

"I see. So, then you have no objections should she fail?"

"None whatsoever. She is as disposable as her brother."

Avicebron turned to face him.

"And if Lancer refuses?"

"Then I'll simply remind him who his Master is," Darnic held up his hand to display his command seals.

"Very well," Avicebron intoned. Darnic scowled. Even when speaking about his only desire, the golem maker exhibited all the enthusiasm of a dead man. For all his myriad uses, he was a vile creature even among other vile creatures.

Truly, this was infuriating.

He had crafted Yggdmillennia from the ground up. Given hope and sanctuary to dozens of weak and pathetic mage clans. And what did he receive in return? Failure and stupidity! From Caules, from Gordes, and even Fiore! Combined with the so-called Tohsaka and her merry band's impossible arrival, it seemed the multiverse was determined to spit in his eye.

But it would not matter. He would not allow it to matter. He had survived the battles in Fuyuki and ripped the Grail right out from under the Founding Families' grasp. He had played politics at the Clock Tower until his tongue ached from all the empty flattery he had to spout to keep his clan alive. He had meticulously spread specific data out into the world to allow False Grail Wars to work out the flaws in the system. Now, everything he had worked towards for the last sixty years was coming to a head. And he would win the Grail's power. Even if what that naïve Emiya man-child had warned him of had been true… Trifas burning? Tens of thousands of deaths? Was that supposed to deter him? Was that the price he had to pay? None of those lives were worth anything to him, ergo, they objectively had no value. Such a paltry 'price' was akin to paying for a diamond the size of a grand piano with a handful of kidney beans and getting away with it. He'd personally squeeze the life out of all of them one by one if that helped him reach his goal sooner. He _would_ get his wish.

Even if he had to burn all of Romania to the ground for it.

* * *

 _ **FATEFATEFATEFATE**_

Caulus thought he should have been panicking, or sweating, or showing some sign of the absolute terror that was running through him. He had just gone to see how his sister was doing with her new Servant, maybe give her some much-deserved encouragement. He hadn't been prepared to overhear exactly what Caster and Darnic had been discussing, what they had in store for Fiore if she failed to control Berserker of Red.

He'd wanted to scream, to protest that they couldn't do something like that to his sister, to use him instead if it would spare her life.

Which wasn't to suggest that those were his first thoughts. He felt an absolutely murderous rage toward the clan patriarch. But his chances of actually managing to kill the man would have been laughable if they weren't so utterly pathetic.

But one by one, he'd analyzed and rejected each of his options as infeasible. Darnic would only scoff at his concerns, if not worse. His magic circuits weren't good enough to be the core of Caster's Noble Phantasm, and even if by some miracle Frankenstein did succeed in killing the leader of Yggdmillennia, that would just leave him facing the wrath of a very angry Vlad the Impaler. Not a position that would benefit anyone.

Of course, he could always kill Avicebron. Berserker might not be very powerful, but all she needed to do was land a single well-placed strike against the man with Bridal Chest. Would Darnic Prestone Yggdmillennia, the _Nazi_ , really care if self-loathing Jew Solomon ibn Gabirol met an untimely end at some point in the near future? No, probably not, but at the same time, Darnic _did_ like what Caster gave him. And there were so many golems under his control. He'd been with them for so long now, he must have had more than enough time to implement failsafes in case something happened to him. And just based on his personality, Caules wouldn't be surprised if Caster's death triggered his creations to all self-destruct, or attempt to kill the family. He was certainly disaffected enough for that kind of thing. At the very least, Roche would be dead within seconds.

Using every ounce of willpower he had, he'd held his silence and marched right out of the workshop and back to his room.

Berserker looked up when he entered, his computer's power cord held in her hand. She gave him a quizzical look as he stomped past her, his video game posters, his Nintendo GameCube, and plopped down onto his bed with a sigh that positively boiled with frustration. She tilted her head to the side, then, frowning, plugged his iMac back in. It was amazing that the room belonged to a mage. Darnic and Celenike had certainly mocked him over it plenty of times. After all, a mage had no need for the inferior contraptions of mankind's present; power was to be found in the Mystics of the past.

Well, Caules had never been much of a mage anyway. While his sister was the miraculous prodigy of a dying line, a girl who loved looking for discoveries around every corner, he just… didn't really care for it. Sure, supernatural powers were cool and all, but along with having terrible circuits, he just never really got the appeal of it. Whatever power or innovations that might be found also always carried a possibility of gruesome death, dismemberment, and worse. 'A mage walks with death' wasn't a phrase to be taken lightly. Before he was recruited into the Grail War (because somehow all Yggdmillennia's other options were worse than him), he'd actually been planning to leave everything behind and go study engineering.

But Fiore loved it. And, in part because she was the only one who'd never given him crap over his own talents, he loved her. She had been born with her legs already taken from her, a gentle girl entering a world that would show her no mercy. But even still, she refused to give up, either her magecraft for her legs, or her kindness for a mage's outlook. And while that did leave him terrified for her safety, he also found it admirable. His entire purpose for being in this war was to make sure she made it out alive.

Which meant he needed to figure out a way to placate Darnic. Because no matter how talented his sister was, no matter what she said to Berserker of Red, that guy was insane. It made him grateful that Frankenstein's Madness Enhancement was so low. Talking outright might have been tiring for her, but he still felt like it was easy to have a conversation with her. Other than his sister, she was probably the best friend he'd ever had.

"I don't suppose you have any ideas on how to get out of this?" he asked.

Berserker looked at him for a moment, her eyes blinking under her ever-present wedding veil. After a bit, she let out a noncommittal grunt, Bridal Chest flashing into her hand.

Caules sighed. "No, I thought about that, but if we kill Darnic, Lancer will have our heads."

She grunted again, this time with more vigor.

"That's true, I suppose. With him gone, Lancer would pretty much have to contract with Fiore to stay in the war. But we'd still be dead," Caules concurred. "Let's keep that one as a backup. I don't want to throw your wish or my life away without considering all our options."

Berserker nodded, a small smile rising to her lips. But she didn't let go of her weapon. What was that about?

"Attention all members of the Black Faction!" Lancer's voice echoed throughout the room, as if resonating from an unseen PA system. "The Red Faction has been spotted approaching our skies. All homunculi to battle stations! All Servants, report to the rooftop immediately!"

Oh. Guess that explained that.

Wait? Skies?

* * *

 _ **FATEFATEFATEFATE**_

 _Shirou wasn't sure if he was grateful to see the amber sky or not. On one hand, it meant he had survived his injuries and his body was sleeping and recovering. On the other…_

 _"Huh. Been quite a while since I saw you that beaten up," Archer remarked. "Which Servant did you try and fight singlehandedly this time?"_

 _Shirou scowled at his alternate self, rising to sit up on the hill of the Counter Guardian's Unlimited Blade Works. The gigantic gears in the sky groaned as the smoke and ash of the forge filled the air. "I wasn't trying to fight a Servant on my own. Unless I'm here and against Gilgamesh, I know that's suicide."_

 _"But you still did it," Archer pointed out. "So, which one was it?"_

 _Shirou sighed. "Saber of Red. Mordred."_

 _That got a reaction out of his alternate self, the Hero of the Bow's eyes widening. "Saber's son was summoned? How is she?"_

 _"Saber or Mordred?"_

 _"Mordred's a woman too? Huh. Will wonders never cease. But I was referring to Arturia."_

 _Shirou shrugged. "I don't know. At the beginning, she didn't even want to be in the same town as her but… well, we encountered Jack the Ripper—"_

 _"An Assassin or his Berserker form?"_

 _"Is there a difference?"_

 _"Berserker is the incarnation of the mystery of his identity, meaning he has no true form. In other words, he can choose to look like anyone. The Assassins usually only take a single form, though if there's one that shares the Berserker's power, I suppose that it would be worse."_

 _"Of course there would be a—" Shirou made to grumble then. "Wait. What do you mean by Assassins? Are you saying there's more than one?"_

 _"From what I've gathered," Archer said, "the Assassin Jack the Ripper is virtually never summoned the same way twice."_

 _"That's just bizarre. Ours was an amalgamation of wraiths and curses that bonded with the spirits of dozens of aborted children and materialized as a little girl with eyes like a snake's, and a penchant for torturing her victims before cutting their throats."_

 _Archer scowled. "That sounds… more depraved than the ones I've encountered. Maybe not quite as dangerous. Still, I can imagine how an encounter with that wraith would make Saber anxious, especially with Mordred present."_

 _"Why?"_

 _"Why would encountering the ultimate example of the evil that can be brought about by abandoned children make her nervous? Why, when forced to confront the child she rejected, and who proceeded to destroy everything she ever built? I thought you'd gained a little sense."_

 _Shirou scowled, his face, irritatingly, mirroring his counterpart's. "I understand that much; why she would believe it would be better if she prevented Mordred from getting the Grail. But why does she feel responsible for her?"_

 _"Other than the savior complex the both of you have only just begun to deal with?" Archer sighed. "Parents often blame themselves for what their children become. Especially if said child did that to you," he gestured at Shirou's injuries. "How did you escape anyway?"_

 _Shirou held up his right hand, his black Command Seals clear to see._

 _"I still see all three counts."_

 _"I'm not the only one who has them. A friend fought Mordred off so I could get away," Shirou explained, frowning. "Would it have killed you to have just said they'd turn me into you instead of trying to be mysterious?"_

 _"I was hoping you wouldn't have to use them," Archer replied. "Those seals create a link between a person and a Heroic Spirit in the Throne. They imprint the spirit onto the mortal vessel. Nearly impossible under most cases, but while the seals can control the energy as long as they're present, once they are gone… well, even when we're the same person, even if you're the one in control, it probably won't be a pleasant experience for you. 'This body is made of swords' after all."_

 _Shriou growled. Zelretch had mentioned the risk involved in his 'gift.' And though he had no desire to throw his life away like he once had, recent events had more than demonstrated they'd need every bit of power they could get to survive the Red and Black Factions. They'd been lucky so far, even with Avalon's loss, they'd come out mostly unscathed. But that would not last forever. Soon, they'd have to cross some sort of line, either the use of the seals or the type Archer had crossed in their own war, the ruthless kind._

 _And speaking of ruthless… and parents…_

 _"Archer, what do you know of the Mage Killer?"_

 _The Heroic Spirit looked at him for a moment before sighing. "So, you finally found out? I'm surprised it took you so long, honestly. I learned about it during my Grail War, but since you didn't, I figured there was no point in telling you."_

 _"So, it's true?" Shirou asked. "All that stuff the Clock Tower has on record, all those atrocities, the old man really committed them?"_

 _"Every last one and more."_

 _Shirou let out a long breath, his eyes numbly staring into the smoke. "Why?"_

 _"Again, why would he not? Kiritsugu always wanted to be a hero of justice. As you'll recall, that dream is his, not ours," Archer pointed out. "He wanted to save as many people as he possibly could. And that meant killing the few to preserve the many."_

 _"So, he was like you?"_

 _"It would be more accurate to say that I am like him, except I have the backing of Alaya. But essentially yes. Does that disappoint you?"_

 _Yes, in a way. He'd known that Kiritsugu had felt that he'd failed to live up to his ideals of being a hero, he was the person who'd first warned him that saving one life often meant deliberately choosing not to save another. Despite that, Shirou had gladly taken up his beloved father's dream, determined to prove that it could be done, a beautiful borrowed ideal to give purpose to his survival. His encounter with Archer had provided him with a well needed cautionary tale about his path, but he'd still thought it possible. Just because the old man had fallen short and Archer had gone too far didn't mean he couldn't find a happy medium between the two, a way to become a true Hero of Justice._

 _But, Kiritsugu hadn't failed. He'd just been like Archer, a brutal killer. The beginning of his ideals was the same as the end._

 _His dream was not a mistake, he believed that with all his heart and soul. It wasn't a mistake to want to help others. He had fought Archer to prove that being Shirou Emiya was not a mistake, that he could live his ideals without throwing himself away. For two years, Rin had helped him do just that. He had been determined to live the beauty of his borrowed ideal, however far that took him, without falling into Archer's despair._

 _And yet… knowing that Kiritsugu suffered that same fate, that the originator of his dream fell victim to the same conclusion as his alternate self… did Archer really fall into despair? Or was that simply the only place the path led?_

 _No. No, he refused to believe that. His dream was not a mistake. There was beauty in it, and he'd find it. He had to._

 _The world around him began to fade, the Reality Marble's titanic gears creaking to a halt._

 _"Looks like you're waking up," Archer said. "Be careful out there. If your friend can tell you how to use those seals, don't hesitate to take my form."_

 _Shirou managed a wry smirk. "Didn't realize you cared."_

 _"About you? I don't. I just don't want Rin and Saber to be forced to bear the weight of your death if you decide to be a prideful idiot."_

 _"Of course."_

 _Even if he had to step into his other self's shoes, even if he had to become his worst nightmare. To wield Archer's power, his Unlimited Blade Works, it would only be temporary, a necessary measure to survive the war. He knew what justice was and in its name, he would be a sword. Even if he couldn't do all the good he wanted to do and save everyone, he would do all the good he could do. He'd find a way._

 _He'd find a way…_

* * *

 _ **FATEFATEFATEFATE**_

Sieg had only just woken up when Shirou's eyes shot open and he sat bolt upright from his place on the grass beside Rin, breathing heavily. Saber, standing stalwart guard over them all, was instantly at his side, the late day sun casting their long shadows across the meadow.

"Are… are you alright?" the homunculus asked tentatively, clutching Rider of Black's sword to his chest.

"I'm fine… I'm fine," Shirou insisted, slowly getting his breathing under control. "Just… not a good dream."

Saber frowned. "You spoke with him?"

Shirou nodded.

"Spoke with who?" Sieg inquired.

Shirou raised his right hand, displaying his Black Command Seals. "The person I'll become if I use these."

The homunculus' eyes widened. "The Heroic Spirit?"

"I take it you've already had a conversation with Siegfried?"

"Yes, before I went after you all to Bucharest," Sieg said. "He was the one who helped me discover what our Command Seals do."

"Really?" Shirou chuckled. "Wish mine was as helpful."

"So, who was he?" Sieg inquired. "Your Heroic Spirit, I mean."

Shirou frowned, closing his eyes in thought. When he finally answered, it was only with a question of his own. "Sieg, do you trust me?"

Sieg hesitated, so he just said, "Um, I… I guess… I do?"

"Then I need you to trust me when I say that I think that it would be a serious mistake for me to tell you that. Don't get me wrong, I'm thankful for your help, but you're not supposed to be involved in the war—"

"Actually, Shirou, that is no longer the case," Saber interrupted. When Shirou looked to her for clarification, she sighed. "He has chosen to join our ranks as a member of the Blue Faction."

" _What?!_ Saber, you and Rin…" he paused, collecting his thoughts, but his eyes were ablaze with anger, "you didn't talk him into this did you?"

"Th-They didn't talk me into anything!" Sieg hastily intervened. He didn't want his presence to negatively affect any of his new allies' relationships. "I asked them. I… I need you all to help me. It was why I followed you to Bucharest."

Shirou raised an eyebrow. "Okay… but I still think it's best not to tell you the identity of that Heroic Spirit."

He didn't understand, but he also didn't want to be too forceful. If he wanted to know maybe he needed Shirou to trust him? But how could he earn the trust of a human who had actual life experience when he had nothing to offer? How did one earn another's trust at all? More questions that he couldn't answer.

"Anyway," Shirou interrupted his train of thought, "what do you need our help with?"

Sieg repeated what he'd told Rin and Saber earlier, his goal of rescuing his kin from Yggdmillennia. Shirou seemed skeptical throughout the entire explanation, but the faintest hint of a smile ghosted across his lips at the mention of saving the other homunculi.

"I see," he murmured. "It's definitely dangerous, but I'll agree that it's a worthwhile goal."

"I'm sorry I've dragged you into this mess—"

"Please refrain from bringing up that particular tangent again," Saber commanded him, her authoritative voice compelling Sieg to obey. "Your impulsive urge to avoid inconveniencing others may be admirable in its own way, but the pact has already been made. You are our ally now, and therefore your foes shall be ours as well. We are in this war together, and all stand to gain from this venture. But do not do us the disservice of doubting our ability to traverse the path set before us."

Sieg quickly nodded, the King of Knights' innate charisma filling his soul with resolve. He knew he should not have kept acting as such towards the Blue Faction, they were equals on paper at least, even if he still felt that deferring to them would be the only proper course of action. They had far more experience than he did after all. Even if his Black Command Seals allowed him to contribute, he had no illusions about who would be doing the majority of the heavy lifting in their endeavors. Though he understood that they were no longer helping him purely out of altruism, he still had no desire to burden them moving forward.

But he supposed that constantly apologizing about the matter wouldn't do them any good either.

"So, what do we do now?" he asked. He gestured to Rin. "Do we wake her and begin planning our next move?"

Shirou and Saber looked over at Rin, still sound asleep, before looking at each other and wincing.

"How long has she been asleep?" Shirou asked.

"Only a few hours."

"Right. We should give her a bit longer."

"Agreed."

Sieg cocked an eyebrow at the pair's decision. Had Assassin of Black's domain affected Rin more than she'd let on? Would waking her up after so little sleep really be taken so poorly? He supposed his allies would know better than him.

"So, what do we do until she wakes up?" he inquired.

"I suggest that we determine how we intend to proceed," Saber said simply. "We can get her input when the time comes, but we should not let what time we have go to waste."

Shirou nodded. "You've spent more time in Millenia Citadel than any of us. Are they any weaknesses in its mystical defenses, any routes we can use to strike at the homunculi power station without arousing suspicion?"

"Other than the Servants?"

"Other than the Servants. We'll figure out how to deal with them once we know what we'll have to watch our backs for."

Sieg's brow furrowed in thought. Gordes had created his homunculi to awaken with a general idea of the citadel's layout so that they could perform their menial, or at least domestic duties properly. However, he was never meant to leave the tank he was in. He was just a mana battery, to be used up to help a Servant use their Noble Phantasm. The time spent there was virtually restricted to the homunculus farm, the room that Rider brought him to, and wherever he was when Rider covered him with that sheet on their way out.

Moreover, the only reason Rider had been able to pull off that escape was because his brethren had let them go, either out of a sense of kinship as fellow homunculi, or out of fear of the Heroic Spirit. And the latter was particularly unlikely. Rider of Black was easily the least frightening thing he'd seen of this world so far. As for the former, it was a debt he had to repay.

And only he could make that possible. Possibly? He went over what little he knew.

"I don't really know my way around there. I was mostly confined to a few rooms, and even when Rider was getting me out, I was covered by a sheet, so I couldn't really see, but I can talk about… a few things I noticed. The size of the garrison prevents them from making use of traditional mage traps. They'd be triggered every other minute by the constant patrols. At least… I'm pretty sure of this… Rider never even had to slow down unless one of the guards was passing through," said Sieg, elaborating as much as he thought was possible and appropriate. "However, that only makes the garrison itself that much higher a priority to the Black Faction. There should be hundreds of homunculi constantly keeping watch throughout the castle. It's big, but they definitely have the numbers. maybe over a thousand. Every soldier homunculus is created already conditioned to sacrifice their life if ordered, and ignore seeing their comrades fall in battle so they'll keep fighting even if we take out the leader."

"So they're basically slaves," Shirou grimaced. "We should avoid harming them if possible."

"If Sieg's estimate is accurate, there are several hundred of them. We may not have a choice," Saber pointed out. "Numbers do not win a battle on their own, but any single warrior can be overwhelmed if there are enough opponents."

"Especially if they muster the golems against you," Sieg said. "Caster of Black, Avicebron, is better at creating them than almost anyone in history. None of his creations are a match for a Servant…probably… but I'm sure they're more than enough to kill a powerful modern mage."

"So, basically same thing," Shirou simplified. "Rin and I have to be careful not to be swarmed, which, taking into account that the Servants and Masters still outnumber us, will be nearly impossible without backup. They aren't going to just line and let me use Unlimited Blade Works like last time."

"However, they do not know about your Command Seals," Saber pointed out. "If I were to launch an assault on the citadel to provide a substantial threat to draw their attention, Saber and Lancer will have little choice but to meet me outside the castle. With Siegfried occupied, Sieg can assume his form and walk in unmolested."

Sieg frowned. "You'd… have me use Siegfried's identity… for deception?"

Saber nodded, her expression stern. "It is not my preferred strategy, but the fact of the matter is that we possess neither the power or numbers necessary to face either of the other factions on equal footing. In order to emerge victorious in a raid, we'll need to do something… unorthodox. And this is certainly preferable to baser deceptions."

"That… is true."

"…won' work…" Rin mumbled from her sleeping bag, abruptly drawing everyone's attention and slightly startling Shirou.

"Uh… how long have you been awake?" he asked.

"'m not awake," Rin slurred through a yawn, her voice just a bit louder than a mumble, "need a little longer."

"How much did you hear?"

"Started listening… 'round 'they're basically slaves'," she yawned, "n' I said your plan won' work."

"Why not?" asked Shirou.

"Thin'k'bout it. 'ff there's…fighd ousside, why'n earth would Siegfried still be inside, goin' in… prolly the wrong d'rection? People will get sss…s'spicius."

"That _is_ a good point."

"You see, this is why I suggested doing this now," Saber spoke up again. "The first idea proposed at a strategy meeting is rarely a good one."

"Heheheheh… yer deflecting 'cus your defensive n'competitive."

Saber whirled around so that her back was to all of them. Sieg, on his part, couldn't fathom what was going on with them, as Rin and Shirou shared a soft giggle.

"I'll get up in a few minutes… jus' a few more," Rin said with another yawn. "Don' stop on my account. 'm still listening."

It seemed that Shirou found something about the way she said that amusing somehow because he gave a soft laugh before continuing.

"You got it, Tohsaka," after that, his expression darkened.

"So, Saber, can I have a go? I can wait if you have other ideas if you want to bring them up."

The Servant coughed into her fist, cleared her throat, and turned halfway back in their direction.

"By all means, Shirou, I would like to hear anything you might have to contribute. You as well, Sieg." As she spoke, Sieg couldn't help but feel that her words were wasted on him. He didn't even know if he could appreciate the sentiment properly.

"I… um…" he stammered. "I actually… do have an idea, but it's not particularly good, I don't think."

"I'll reserve judgment until after you've given voice to this idea," Saber nodded. "Go on."

"Well… the other homunculi let me go last time. Who's to say they wouldn't let me in as well?"

Shirou and Saber both found themselves staring at the homunculus boy in bemusement. Even Rin turned over to open one eye at Sieg. That sounded absolutely ridiculous. But…

"I want to say that's outrageous, but that… that might actually work," the redhead murmured.

"Ow!" Rin yelped. "Damn… what a time to roll onto a rock…" she grumbled, reaching out of her sleeping bag, and digging around underneath her to find an ordinary stone, which she tossed away into the grass, coming to a rest next to a small, brown bird which looked at it, then flew away. Following its example, Rin crawled out of the sleeping bag and slipped her shoes on. "Well, I'm awake now. Might as well make myself useful."

"What would you recommend?" Saber asked.

"I think the rational choice in this would be to find a spot where I can observe you Saber, and provide support from there. As for the others…" she trailed off, putting a hand to her chin and seeming to focus very hard on something in the distance. After a few moments, she looked at Shirou.

"I could combine aeromancy with some crude formalcraft if I get started now. I've seen it before. I could make Shirou invisible to the naked eye. If I start working now, I should have that done in less than an hour. That should be enough to avoid detection by the homunculi, but I doubt that a Servant would miss you."

"If I can get inside, I might be able to attack the masters' chambers," Shirou noted coldly. "Any Servant inside would have to move to defend them."

Rin and Saber both cocked an eyebrow.

"You've spent the entire war talking about how you don't want to kill the masters," Rin reminded him. "Why would they ever think you're legitimately attacking them? They'd know it was a bluff."

"I'll make it look convincing."

"Um…" Sieg stuttered, calling the others' attention to him. "I'm rather inexperienced with combat in general, but… wouldn't making it look convincing require the masters to actually be targeted? To be in actual danger? What if something goes wrong and the Servant can't save them? Would that be… good or… bad?"

It was a legitimate question, at least from his inexperienced point of view. He was still quite terrified of every member of Yggdmillennia, but Shirou had been quite adamant about not killing the masters so far, had seemed so certain it was the correct choice. Now, he was saying that putting them in danger would be his go-to strategy. He vaguely understood that conventional morality, whatever that was, could be suspended in times of peril, but Shirou suddenly changing tactics seemed… out of character. Rin and Saber's befuddled expressions only made the situation seem odder.

Shirou didn't notice their apprehension, instead placing a comforting hand on Sieg's shoulder, drawing the boy's crimson eyes to his own amber. "I understand your hesitation, Sieg. It's not a bad thing. But we've already handicapped ourselves more than the other Masters just by caring about bystanders, even more so by trying to save your kin and even them."

The homunculus raised an eyebrow. "So, because we want to do the right thing, we make our path more difficult?"

Shirou glanced to the side for a moment, his brow furrowed in frustration. "It's not about that we want to do it, or even that we must. It is that we will. Yes, that means our path won't be as easy as it might have been if we were different people. But that just means we have to find our own way forward, whatever form that takes. Even if it's a way that still isn't perfect, it's better than falling to whatever we've sworn off."

Sieg tilted his head at the ire in the sword mage's voice, but found himself nodding nonetheless. He didn't know what life meant, what it meant to live. But it did make some sort of sense that it was not so easily mercurial. He could try what he liked, discover what his preferences were, but… eventually, he'd have to decide who he wanted to be. A path, once decided, should be followed, shouldn't it? Otherwise, what was the point in following it at all?

Saber did not seem so convinced, frowning at her ally. "Shirou, are you sure you are alright? Did Archer say anything to unsettle you?"

"Nothing that matters at the moment," Shirou responded hastily. "But are we agreed that Sieg infiltrating and getting the homunculi and masters out is a solid plan? I can bomb the castle from a distance and take out the remaining Servants once that is done."

"It could work," Sieg said. "But I worry my transformation won't last so long. When I fought Saber of Red, it only held out for about a minute. My magical energy might have been a bit taxed by the combat, but I don't think it will make too much of a difference."

"I'm not sure how long I'll be able to hold off Lancer and Siegfried," Saber noted, her narrowed eyes making it clear she would be bringing up Shirou's dream later. "Though, if Sieg's assault on the castle were able to disrupt Lancer's magical energy enough, it might allow you to shoot him at range. From there, Siegfried and I can complete our duel and I can reclaim Avalon."

"…while we leave the rest of the Black Faction alive as to soften up the Reds," Shirou finished her thought with a smile. "That could work. We'd at least save time with Sieg only needing to get in and free the homunculi, instead of kidnapping all the Masters. Rin would probably need to use at least one Command Seal to teleport you away from Lancer and keep up the wild goose chase, but it just might… work?"

Sieg was about to ask why Shirou had trailed off, when he realized Shirou was staring over his shoulder. He turned around, not seeing anything until Saber of Blue tensed and gestured above the trees.

Suffice to say, his jaw dropped.

Floating hundreds of feet in the air, was an utterly titanic stronghold, easily as large as Millenia Citadel, if not bigger. It was layered in shining bronze and intricate black stonework; elegant, yet more imposing than anything the homunculus had ever seen. Eight giant stone tablets orbited the castle, each one humming with wells of prana so deep that even the untrained homunculus could sense the gargantuan maelstrom of magic contained within each. Even without that, the sheer dominating majesty of the fortress stole the boy's voice.

Rin looked genuinely frightened, biting down on her lower lip.

"Just how big is that thing?!" she gasped.

"I was actually wondering _what_ it is," said Shirou.

"Someone's Noble Phantasm, no doubt," Saber offered. "It appears to be some sort of aerial fortification. But considering the direction in which it is headed, I suspect it may double as a siege weapon."

"Emiya, this may sound cliché, but are you _sure_ I'm not still asleep?"

"If you are, we're sharing the same dream," Shirou responded, voice trembling in equal parts awe and disbelief as he watched the aerial stronghold continue on its imperious, inexorable path towards Trifas.

"Saber, your Noble Phantasm is an anti-fortress attack, right?" asked Rin.

"Indeed. I've no need to mince words; indeed, my holy sword would tear it out of the sky, were it a normal fortress. But if my assumption is correct, and it is, in fact, a weapon, I suspect that it has defenses powerful enough to mitigate the damage I would otherwise deal to it."

Rin huffed.

"Well, that's a shame."

"Untrue. As powerful as Excalibur may be, more than one Red Servant would survive the attack even if the fortress itself was destroyed, which seems unlikely. There is a great distance between its location and ours, but I can sense the mana emanating from those monoliths from here.

"Yeah, and even if you succeeded, that would just mean it was the four of us against the whole Black Faction. I'm sure we could kill one or two of them, four at the most. But we'd still lose.

A strange look came across Saber of Blue's face, and she murmured.

"A moving base. If only we could combine it with the King of Heroes' treasury and the King of Conquerors' army."

Shirou and Rin both gave her a strange look, which she seemed not to notice. Then with a weirdly proud grin, she added;

"…and then my holy sword would mercilessly cleave through them both and I would reign supreme."

Rin coughed, but Sieg could have sworn she was laughing. Was she trying to hide her laughter by coughing through it? Pulling out a notepad, she didn't bother hiding the next few giggles as she jotted a short note down, prompting a flush from the Servant.

"Please tell me what you just wrote," Saber didn't waste a moment.

"Just decided to start a list of things I would never expect of you," Rin answered, sounding surprisingly casual.

"And what did I just do that would provoke such an odd activity?"

"Express the emotion of spite."

"I take it you were fond of Gilgamesh?" Saber glowered.

"Not at all. I just didn't expect you might say something like that. Also, the King of Conquerors… Alexander the Great?"

Saber sighed, clenching her fist.

"Yes… Iskandar. During the Fourth Holy Grail War, I found his company unbearable. I will admit, I understand what he meant now, and the wisdom in his words, but he himself could only be described as obnoxious."

She left it at that, but Rin looked like she was expecting more. Sieg had to admit, he wanted her to elaborate. To know the details of this story. Saber of Blue suddenly looked away and huffed, "I would much rather _not_ to pursue this particular topic any further.

Shirou turned to Sieg, "Uh, maybe it's a weird time to ask, but what aria did you use to activate the Deadcount Shapeshifter Command Seals?"

Sieg nodded. Even he could tell that the flying fortress was an instrument of the Red Faction. And with their current trajectory and speed, by his estimate, they'd reach Millennia Citadel by nightfall. There wouldn't be a better time to break into the Yggdmillennia's hold and free his kin, or pick off any stragglers of either side. It was a dangerous but golden opportunity that couldn't be passed up.

Still, despite his new and steadfast allegiance, the homunculus couldn't help but think of those who'd saved him who were left in the line of fire. What would become of Saber and Rider in the battle to come?

* * *

 _ **FATEFATEFATEFATE**_

"How are they walking? They're just bones. I'm pretty sure things need muscles to move, right?"

"They're magical constructs, Rider."

"Yeah, but they're still just skeletons. I'm sure they'd work better with muscles. Don't you think?"

Siegfried really couldn't do more than shrug at Astolfo's observation of the incoming horde of skeletal warriors. The two Servants stood atop the parapets of Millennia Citadel, the latter having been released from his punishment early once the Red Faction's floating stronghold was spotted by Caster's scouts.

He had to say, for all the majestic and magical sights he'd had the privilege of witnessing during his life, a floating castle with a full complement of dragon tooth warriors was a new one.

For all its brutality, there was a certain wonder to the Holy Grail War, that those who fought could witness such marvels that only the greatest heroes throughout history could craft. For all Avicebron's talent, he believed the Caster of Red, who'd no doubt brought this about, had the golem maker outdone.

That moving fortress certainly nullified their defensive advantage. Their possession of the Greater Grail forced the enemy to come to them for battle, with their strategy assuming that this would give them the advantage of fortifications. Since it was so well defended, they had expected that their auxiliary army could attack and overwhelm the Red Masters while the Servants were occupied in battle. But with the dragon tooth warriors in play, their foes had acquired numbers to match the homunculi and golems, and since the enemy's fortress could move, all of its defenses would turn into siege weapons the moment they got within range of the citadel. And the Yggdmillennia hadn't thought to prepare for a heavy assault from above.

If there was a positive to this situation however, it would certainly be the fact that these magical constructs were wrought from the fangs of a dragon, meaning they were effectively prey. He was sure that he would be destroying swaths of them en masse. It might even be fun before getting tedious.

Fortunately, the enemy seemed to be cautious as well, halting their fortress' advance just beyond the Trifas meadow. The Yggdmillennia forces were already charging out to meet the skeletal legion. Soon, the Servants of Black would join them in the field.

It saddened Siegfried, that the enemy had summoned an army equal to their own. Not because he held it against them for striving for victory or because he desired an easier battle for himself, but because an equally numbered force would almost certainly kill more of the homunculi than if the Servants of Red fought the war alone.

He only hoped his strategy would work. If it did not, and Millennia Citadel fell, he doubted the Mage's Association forces would show mercy to creatures whom they would view as enemy weapons. At the very least, he'd managed to help save at least one of them. He'd hoped to help more, but if he failed in that endeavor, at least his time in this world was not completely without positive consequence.

"Are you thinking about him?"

"Hmm?" Siegfried turned to Astolfo. "Who do you mean?"

The pink paladin chuckled. "The one we saved. I could tell. Your stoic scowly face was slightly less scowly."

That prompted a small smile from the Germanic knight. "You do have a way with words, Rider."

"Hey, if you wanted sage advice you should have talked to… well, you could have talked to Archer," Astolfo noted, frowning for a moment in remembrance of their fallen comrade. But it was only for a moment, just as the bowman would have wished, before his bubbly grin returned. "I just do the best I can. And don't worry. He's probably out there, loving life, maybe making it big with the ladies if you know what I mean."

Siegfried cocked an eyebrow. "It's only been three days."

"That's plenty of time if he's confident. Women love confidence. And men too."

"Are you two done gossiping?" Lord Gordes groaned, marching out onto the parapet. "We have a war to fight. Get out there!"

"Aw, don't be such a sourpuss," Astolfo said. "It'll be fine. We've got Saber and Lancer. Even if they have a giant flying castle, an army of skeletons, and two nearly invincible warriors, we have _me_ … hehehe…"

Lord Gordes' eyebrow twitched. "Your confidence is infectious," he growled. "I'm sure Celenike would love to hear such a rousing speech from her Servant in person."

"Oh, no, I'm sure that's _completely_ unnecessary. I mean, she's already safe in her chamber and all."

"While we are still on the subject Master, should you not make your way to your own chamber?" Siegfried asked. "You'll be safer there."

"I know that!" the alchemist blustered. "I just came here to make sure you kept to the terms of our agreement. I won't have your blasted sympathy for the homunculi keep you from fighting at your full strength. I don't have the _prana_ to let you fight at full capacity alone, and you'll need everything you have to survive Rider of Red."

Siegfried frowned, but nodded. He had given his word, and in this, his master spoke truly. "I will not fail you, my lord."

Lord Gordes scowled. "So you say. We don't even know if your little strategy will work. Why would Saber of Blue even walk into this mess?"

"Because they have no choice."

All three men whirled around, looking up to the roof of the castle, Lord Darnic and Lancer standing side by side atop the stone tower. The pair quickly jumped down to the balcony, Caster, Berserker, and Lord Caules walking out of the citadel.

"Our truce with the Blue Faction has officially ended," Darnic reminded them. "Thus, coming to this battle is their best opportunity to pick off both our stragglers and the Red Faction."

"Indeed," Lancer nodded. "Such guerilla warfare is the Blue Faction's only real option given their numbers disadvantage. Tohsaka would be a fool not to exploit it."

The King of Romania turned out to the dark horizon and grinned, a note of his legendary bloodlust permeating the air. "But no matter. Now is not the time to quibble over the decisions of enemies who've not yet shown themselves. The Red Faction has come all this way to trample upon my domain, and done us a supreme discourtesy in leaving these filthy bones clattering about. This simply won't do."

Darnic bowed to his Servant. "My Lord, please feel free to wield your power to your heart's content."

"Thank you, Darnic," the Lord Impaler replied. "This battle is sure to require it."

Darnic nodded and rose. "Gordes, Caules, let's go. We have no choice but to entrust this battle to our Servants."

Siegfried's master nodded and followed, but Lord Caules dawdled, sending a fearful glance towards Lord Darnic's fleeting form. After sparing another terrified gaze at Caster, he approached his own Servant. "Berserker, what we were talking about before, if the Blue Faction appears, or one of the Red Faction Masters leave themselves vulnerable… if you can, take them alive."

Berserker whirled around and let out a confused growl.

"If it comes down to a choice between your life or theirs, save yourself," Caules hastily clarified. "But if you can… if we had them, we could avoid… you know…"

Berserker stopped his rambling by placing a firm hand on her master's shoulder. For once, she shot the young mage a reassuring smile.

"Hnn!" a sharp nod.

Caules smiled. "Thank you. And take care of yourself out there as well. Don't remove the limiter on your Noble Phantasm, alright?"

That sentiment only swapped her outward confidence with irritation and she went back to growling.

"I mean it. Your safety comes first, okay?"

Astolfo nudged Siegfried's side. "Say, is it just me, or is there something going on between those two?"

Frankenstein suddenly turned on Rider and roared at him, stomping up to the paladin and forcing him backwards until he was leaning over the edge of the battlements.

"Okay, okay, I get it, alright, alright!" Astolfo protested. "I'm just saying—"

"Grrrrrr!" she cut him off.

"Uh?" Caules turned to Siegfried. "What did he say about her?"

Berserker whirled on Saber, her lips pulled back to bare her teeth, still growling.

"Nothing that you need concern yourself at the moment, my lord," Siegfried replied, the faint upward twitch of his lips the only indication of his amusement. "Please, you should get to safety."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Caules said.

As Caules started making his way down from the battlements, Siegfried noticed an equine automaton trot past him, going the other way, only stopping once it reached Lancer's side. The Servant mounted it with one swift

"I get it, I get it, don't talk about your love li—hey! Lancer!" Astolfo called, dashing out from Berserker's fury. "You're riding a horse? That's my job!"

Lancer raised an eyebrow at the bombastic knight. "Rider, this is your redemption. Now is the time to show your prowess as one of the twelve Paladins of Charlemagne."

"Oh! Right!" Astolfo cheered. "Don't you worry, Lancer. Fighting in this Great Holy Grail War is my mission after all!"

Lord Vlad nodded and turned to the rest of them. "Berserker, I've no orders for you other than those your Master has previously arranged. Go wild and crush the enemy under your storm. Caster, keep back and provide golem reinforcements whenever and wherever possible. You are also to assist Fiore in deploying Berserker of Red at the most opportune time."

"The girl has yet to bring him under any semblance of control, even with her command seals," Avicebron pointed out. "It may be best to reassign her to my own project."

Lancer frowned. "You would sacrifice one of our own to unleash your full power before the first major battle, Caster? Do you deploy your queen at your first opportunity in a game of chess?"

"That is—"

"Enough of this. We have no time to squabble over your single-minded obsession," Lancer's tone left no room for argument. "Saber, I want you to lead the charge from the head of the homunculus army. Be visible, so you may attract both Rider of Red, and the Blue Faction if they come."

"By your command," Siegfried bowed. "However, should Lancer of Red appear…"

"I understand your warrior's promise with him and Saber of Blue, but for the time being, I must command you to postpone your duel. It is absolutely imperative that you keep Achilles occupied," said Lancer. A sneer sharpened across his face. "Besides, I must confess, I am rather curious to see the legendary Hero of Charity's power for myself. The sun's scion shall be a most worthy trophy mounted upon my stakes."

Siegfried nodded. It was a strategic necessity and if he hadn't given his word to both Karna and Arturia, Lancer's proposed matchups would have been his own preferred choices. Though he couldn't help but feel as though the Lord Impaler was underestimating their demigod opponent.

Nonetheless, the King of Romania turned his murderous glee out toward the battlefield below. "Everyone, Archer has fallen valiantly, and our treacherous Assassin has paid for its crimes. With the exception of their Berserker, the enemy likely comes with all their Servants. There is a vast difference in raw strength. And so, I must ask, is there anyone here who is willing to simply lie down accept defeat?"

"Meh. …I mean, given the option, being alive is more fun, buuuut…" all eyes turned to Astolfo who scurried a few paces away from the others in an attempt to escape their scrutiny. "I'll, uh… be right over here."

Lancer shook his head.

"The rest of you? Do any of you fear the enemy?"

This time he received nothing but silence and hard stares.

"Excellent! We shall be victorious! Overcoming such power, prevailing over despair, achieving victory in this battle shall be a testament to our glory to echo for all eternity!"

Lancer's ability to boost morale was impressive, Siegfried decided.

Lancer hefted his spear to point towards the sky, right at the Red Faction's floating fortress. "Not only do these barbarians dare corrupt our domain, they mock us as they do! They deserve nothing less than death! Revel in their pain as you murder them! Now, go!"

Those words were like a starting pistol. Every Servant of Black save Caster leaped from the citadel walls and charged into the fray. Astolfo whistled and called his mount to him, the hippogriff carrying its master into the sky to challenge their enemy's stronghold.

As for Siegfried, he did his duty, charging to the front of the homunculi army and slamming into the oncoming horde of skeletons. Balmung carved through the bony warriors almost too easily, the rage of a dragon obliterating the byproduct of its kin's essence. The dragon tooth warriors very nearly gave way just by coming into contact with his blade.

Every Red Faction minion that he obliterated was one that wouldn't take the life of a soldier behind him. Until the Servants of Red arrived on the battlefield, he would ensure that he protected as many of them as possible.

After about half a minute of tearing through the skeletal hordes however, he had to wonder what was taking the enemy Servants so long.

* * *

 _ **FATEFATEFATEFATE**_

"Why aren't we out there already?" Achilles asked Lancer, the both of them standing atop the Hanging Gardens, unflinching as the racing winds roared around them. Below, the Servants of Black had joined the battle, entire legions of dragon tooth warriors folding like wet paper as they were bombarded by green electricity or a rain of wooden stakes. "Seriously, I doubt even the empress has an infinite supply of these things. We should jump in now before all our forces are wiped out."

"The priest speaks for our masters," Lancer replied. "If he says we wait for Archer's move, then we wait. These skeletons are, at the end of the day, expendable."

"Oh, come on. Don't tell me you'd really rather be freezing your butt up here than finishing things with Saber of Black down there?"

The demigod of the sun raised an eyebrow. "I don't freeze."

"Right… poor choice of words," the Rider muttered. "But come on, you want to fight already, don't you?"

The faintest ghost of a smile flickered across the man's alabaster face. "It would bring me a great deal of contentment to cross blades with him again. Preferably with him and Saber of Blue at the same time."

Achilles grinned. With Missy hanging out with Saber and her master, Berserker dead or captured, and Caster and Assassin being who they were, Lancer was the only person the Hero of Troy could talk to. Granted, Karna wasn't exactly a star conversationalist, but his very presence had a calming effect, like a warm sunny day. He was a warrior, but not a cruel one, a vice Achilles had fallen into himself more than once, intentionally and unintentionally, and always to his shame. A man such as the Hero of Charity was always welcome company.

Hell, the only thing the Hero of Charity wasn't good for was a sparring match. Not that he couldn't keep up. Quite the opposite in fact. Lancer was a fighter of a caliber Achilles had rarely seen, a warrior equal to the finest he had known in Troy, easily. He didn't think he'd be slaughtered if the two of them ever came to blows for some reason, but he wouldn't have a prayer of surviving such a fight with anything less than his best. And a battle such as that had no place as a mere spar. No, if they ever fought, it would be as true warriors, to the death. Anything less would just be disrespectful to them both.

It was a shame though. Practicing alone since Missy had left had just gotten… sad. There was only so many times you could go through the motions of a weapon drill before it got painfully dull.

"Rider, Lancer," Assassin's unwelcome voice rang through their heads. "They've danced to my tune perfectly. Archer should fire any second. Prepare yourselves."

Lancer nodded obediently while Achilles just rolled his eyes. Even so, he kept his gaze glued to the sky.

He'd never actually seen Missy's Noble Phantasm in action before. He couldn't wait to see just how spectacular it was.

* * *

 _ **FATEFATEFATEFATE**_

"Keep it steady, keep it steady! _Goddammit, I said steady!_ "

"Oh _relax_ , Master. It's steady enough."

"He's right, mage. You're doing an excel—eee! Hehehe! An excellent job, Saber."

Mordred shot her Master a smug look. He responded by tightening his grip on the back of his seat. The seatbelt _did not_ suffice. The Knight of Rebellion rolled her eyes.

Seriously, they had to wait around all day for their wounds to heal. They didn't have time to waste if they were going to get Archer in position for the priest's strategy. So what if the road was a little bumpy? She had a Rank B Riding Skill! She could handle anything short of a phantasmal beast. A stolen car was a walk in the park.

At least Archer recognized her preeminent skill. The wonderful cat-eared bowman had kept up her encouragement throughout the trip, even squealing in excitement whenever they'd hurdled over a particularly noticeable bump.

"It's like she thinks it's a damn banana boat…" Shishigou muttered.

Her laughter had grown even more frequent once she had scrambled onto the roof of the vehicle to prepare for her attack.

Speaking of…

"We're approaching the enemy!" Archer called down. "Slow down so you don't get caught in the barrage!"

"Got it!" Mordred replied, dropping down to only a hundred kilometer per hour. "So for your Noble Phantasm, do you want us to plug our ears when you shout the name or what?"

"What? Why would you do that?"

Mordred shrugged. "Well, you know, your Noble Phantasm's True Name gives clues to your identity. You okay with us hearing it?"

There was a pause, likely of the other Servant considering the offer. Mordred herself wasn't completely sure why she'd even made it. But, despite Archer's apparent helplessness against her Black Faction counterpart, it was rare that someone had shown such… appreciation for the Knight of Rebellion. Her Master had been the first and now her teammate… needless to say, she did not need to be coddled, she was a knight, not a child. But… it was nice, to receive the praise she was due for her skills.

Regardless, she did not wish for Archer's well-earned admiration of her to put the other Servant at a disadvantage. She had let her feel her super-fluffy ears after all.

Soon enough, the reply came. "Thank you for your consideration. But there is no issue. My Noble Phantasm reveals nothing about me you could not have already surmised from our battle with the Sage of Heroes."

"Oh, okay. Neat." Mordred couldn't say she'd figured out much from the battle other than the Servant of the Bow also being from ancient Greece, but that era of history was so littered with heroes that saying she was from there was like saying Merlin knew a few harlots. It was factual information, but it hardly narrowed anything down.

Soon enough, the battle appeared on the horizon, just enough for Mordred and Archer's enhanced Servant eyesight to see. Homunculi clashed with skeletons as golems bullied their way through the fray to crush everything in their path. She thought she even saw the flash of a few Servants tearing through the ranks.

Looming above all the action were the Hanging Gardens. As much as she distrusted the priest's witch, she had to admit, her fortress was… adequate. Okay, fine, it was awesome. Credit where credit was due for a fracking castle in the sky! And it had certainly drawn the enemy's attention well enough. Thanks to its little display, she was basically driving up behind the Servants of Black in plain sight, and they had no freaking clue!

And then Archer would bombard their flank. When the enemy's army was left in disarray, the Red Servants would trap the enemy in a pincer with Assassin providing artillery support from above. As far as strategies went, it was simple enough, which meant it was alright in Mordred's book, even if the priest had come up with it.

Because, with the Black Faction on the edge of collapse, father would have no choice but to appear, or risk being completely at the Red Faction's mercy. Though he could no doubt crush any of the individual Servants (except Mordred herself, of course), all together, they would simply overwhelm him. He needed the two sides to whittle each other down, not have one outright crush the other. Which meant he'd have to appear.

Atop the car, they felt a huge influx of mana as Archer spoke a short incantation. Mordred slowed down further and leaned out the window to see two arrows nocked in Archer's bow, aimed toward the clouds.

 _"With this bow and these arrows, I respectfully request the divine protection of Apollo and Artemis. I offer thee this calamity…_

 _"_ **Phoebus Catastrophe!** _"_

She let the arrows fly and the shafts streaked into the sky, leaving a glowing turquoise trail in their wake. They disappeared into the clouds, and that same green glow flashed within them like lightning. This was gonna be good.

Mordred grinned. All the Servants of Black and Red were assembled. The consequences of this battle would set the course for the rest of the war. Father had to come or he'd risk losing any number of potential advantages.

This time, he would not escape her. She would once again show him the strength of the son he should have acknowledged.

* * *

 **An extra huge thank you to my patrons: ArcherMcMuffin, Gregg Tracton, Keith Traction, StabKingPro, Annaya Chan, Paula mandel, and Nora Okonus.**

 **Thank you for Reading! I hope you enjoy what comes next!**

 **Go Forth and Conquer!**


	16. Chapter 15

**So, this chapter was supposed to be out in October, but real life got ahead of me. Then, I took November off to write both it and the chapter that was due then, but by the time I finished, both Draconic and I were being slammed by finals prep. From there, Fanfiction turning off the PM notifications to deal with spambots delayed our communications and here we are. He gave both chapters a look over, but my failures did not provide him with enough time to do much in-depth work on these chapters. However, you all have been extremely patient with me and I cannot justify depriving you of two poll cycles of updates. All mistakes in this chapter are mine and mine alone and I beg your forgiveness for both them and my tardiness. I will be posting the November chapter shortly after this.**

 **So, without further ado, the October Poll Chapter!**

 **Beta-ed by Draconic**

* * *

Siegfried felt the burst of _prana_ being released first, like a crack of thunder hitting a dam, a titanic flood rushing free through the breach. He took the barest respite from carving through his current platoon of dragon tooth warriors to shoot a quick glance up at the sky, frowning momentarily at the two turquoise sparks blazing across the night, traveling up beyond the clouds. Green light flickered within the cloudfront like emerald sheet lightning.

And then it rained, as what must have been a hundred-thousand shining arrows burst from the clouds in an unstoppable torrent, pouring down death upon the Black Faction's flank like falling stars.

The Dragonslayer was unsure if he would be harmed by the attack. There was no question that this was a Noble Phantasm, but the output of magical energy seemed low; he doubted it was capable of penetrating his armor, though he wouldn't know for sure until he was struck. He was far more concerned for the homunculi; it was without question that they were the primary targets of the incoming barrage, and they would easily be torn to shreds by such an overwhelming assault. Even putting aside his more sentimental concerns for the artificial beings, if they and their golem shock troops were to fall, then the Servants of Red would only need to keep him and his fellow heroes occupied long enough for the skeletal legion to infiltrate the castle proper and overwhelm their Masters with their superior numbers. If their ranks were mowed down by the approaching flank attack, then the Black Faction was sure to fall.

Thankfully, this was not the Mage's Association's territory just yet. And its current king was not quite ready to let his kingdom fall.

Rising like an unholy tide, countless stakes sailed upwards into the sky, as though every forest in Romania had been stripped bare for its sovereign's defense against the lethal storm. All at once, the twin waves of brown and turquoise crashed together, ten instruments of impalement slamming into each arrow and shattering the ethereal armaments like cheap glass, though they were all turned to splinters in return. But in the end, not a projectile touched their forces.

"Forward, soldiers of Yggdmillenna! Forward!" Lancer called, the legendary Impaler thrusting his spear towards the enemy, a thousand skeletons instantly pierced from below. Even if his horse was an eerie golem instead of a brilliant white stallion, the king's imperial presence reigned supreme across the battle, not an ounce of effort showing despite just neutralizing the ultimate weapon of another hero. "Crush these wretched invaders and revel in their agony!"

A small smile crossed Siegfried's face and he made to answer his superior's command. This land belonged to the patriarch of House Tepes, and so long as he stood at their side, their victory was well within reach.

Which made his eyes widen all the more when he felt a surge of _prana_ that made the recently used Noble Phantasms feel like firecrackers. Fear, a glorious emotion he'd once thought he'd buried with Fafnir, rushed through his veins, as only two warriors in this war could cause. The radiant blaze descending on the King of Romania confirmed which had joined the fray.

Exploding from the battlefield, Siegfried leapt into the air, a sky-blue glow encasing his blade. His greatsword swung forward through the flames, cleaving the gigantic fireball in two. As the blaze dispersed in a rush of heat, its golden master was revealed behind it, descending from the heavens like the sun come to set anew.

"Saber of Black," Karna acknowledged, the barest of smiles flickering across his face. "Have you come forward to fulfill our promise? Or shall we wait for the King of Knights to join us?"

Siegfried allowed himself a brief smirk. "How long have you known her identity?"

"I've had my suspicions since our last battle, but I did not know for sure, until you just confirmed it," Karna revealed, bowing his head slightly. "My apologies if you find any deception in my actions."

"There is no need. You asked a question and I answered thoughtlessly," Siegfried shook his head, internally kicking himself. "If anything, I shall have to apologize to her when we meet again."

" _If_ you meet again." The Lancer of Red raised his spear. "I quite doubt you shall be able to walk away if we battle here."

Whether that was true or not quickly proved irrelevant. The ground surrounding the Hero of Charity suddenly erupted with dark stakes, roots the size of houses surging up from the earth and rumbling towards the golden warrior. Karna danced into the sky to avoid them, but even he could not dodge them all, even if all they did was shatter against his golden armor.

"Your battle tonight shall be with me, Lancer of Red!" Vlad roared, riding into the fray, the hills of his homeland surging forth at his command. "And it shall be your last. For you face Vlad the Third of Wallachia! The undisputed master of this land!"

The Impaler glanced towards Siegfried. "You have your assignment, Saber. Leave this trespasser to me."

Karna raised an eyebrow, his crimson cloak sweeping on the wind as he weaved through the onslaught, no more effort showing on his face than if he were rising from bed. "So, you would set him against Rider? You may come to regret this. Not to say that your strategy is lacking, mind you. It is a sound plan. It is, however, unlikely to bear fruit. Brash as he may be, Rider's skills are quite exceptional."

"Wait, was that a compliment? Didn't know you had it in you!"

Siegfried's eyes widened, his stance instantly shifting towards the new voice. Unfortunately, said voice was accompanied by a flying chariot and a great deal of lightning, hurtling towards him faster than Fafnir ever had, a barren trail of hundreds of crushed homunculi and golems already behind it. The knight leapt to the side, rolling out of the vehicle's path just as its trio of stallions tore past him. Even then, he had no doubt it would have torn him to shreds if its master hadn't spoken beforehand.

Rider of Red grinned ear to ear like a schoolboy, tugging hard on the reins of the three horses pulling his mighty weapon, bringing the chariot around for another pass. "Like I told you last time, Saber, I don't need this to kill you. But, when fighting an army, it only seems fitting to use an Anti-Army Noble Phantasm, don't you think?"

"Brash as he may be, his skills are quite exceptional," Lancer of Red repeated himself.

Saber gazed stoically at his opponent's mount. He could see why he hadn't brought it out during their fight in the woods. Though undeniably powerful, it was radiating almost as much magical energy as Achilles himself. His Master hadn't been nearby during their previous skirmish, so there was no way he could have provided sufficient power to use it in combat.

Even so, no matter how close the mage was, what kind of magical reserves must they have to supply enough power to summon an entirely new Servant? For a high cost warrior like Achilles, not to mention Karna, only the finest of magic circuits could keep up, but this was on an entirely different level, the same as the Black Faction's homunculi system, and the Red Faction hadn't had nearly enough time to set up something like that. Where were they getting all this _prana_ from?

No matter. He had a nearly invincible demigod riding a two-ton war machine about to trample him into paste to deal with. He could worry about the discrepancies in the enemy's logistics later. He had to destroy his enemy's mount in the sparse few seconds before Rider came around or he would be in for a very unpleasant pounding.

Balmung blazed with sapphire energy, his Noble Phantasm charging as quickly as it could. His ultimate attack wouldn't hurt Achilles himself, but it would blast his mount to cinders. It would all come down to whether his weapon could fully call up its maximum power in the sparse seconds before his foe struck. For any normal human, it would have been the blink of an eye. For the two Servants, it was an eternity as they readied their arsenals as fast as possible.

Fortunately, his worry proved quite unnecessary.

Just as the chariot wheeled around, titanic spikes shot up from the ground and streaked right through the wheels, immediately arresting the vehicle's movement. Achilles scowled, waving his arm to disperse the chariot into green sparks. He dashed away from the wreck, the stakes chasing after him, biting for his nimble heel.

Siegfried released the buildup of his power, shooting a quick nod of thanks towards Vlad. The King didn't have the time to return it before Karna was on him, his golden lance crashing into the Impaler's own spear.

"I thought you had decided on me as your opponent," the Hero of Charity said.

"You are," Lancer of Black smirked. "But what general would not take a chance at destroying a troublesome foe when the opportunity presented itself? Especially to aid one of their soldiers? A king's power is that of his entire country, and it can easily be divided and reunited at my whim for such trifling tasks."

"Hmm… I see," Karna remarked. "So to prevent you from attacking my ally, I need only bring to bear enough force that you must counter with the entirety of your country's strength. A simple matter."

Lancer's eyes widened in shock at the perceived insult before his face devolved into a vicious, bloodthirsty sneer. "Well, well. You failed to mention his arrogance, Saber. This interloper seems intent on receiving a visceral lesson in pain!"

He thrust out his hand and hundreds of stakes erupted from the earth, Karna darted back from their assault, his armor glittering even in the depths of the night. Truly, the battle between two such titanic Heroic Spirits would shake the world itself.

However, Siegfried had his own duty to perform, forcing him to turn away from the clash between king and demigod. Though he favored the King of Romania's victory without question, he found he could not truly wish for the Lancer of Red's demise either, such a kind soul he was. But that was the tragedy of all wars he supposed, even the fantastical ones brought about by the Holy Grail. In the end, there was rarely a purely evil dragon to slay. It was just kind souls brought forth to kill each other, and desperately try to hold onto their kindness in the process.

Which left him rushing in to confront the other demigod of the Red Faction. He dashed in with Balmung held aloft, knowing only his finest speed stood even a chance of matching his opponent's absurd agility. Especially since there was only one area he could actually strike.

Unfortunately, as he attempted to circle around, Achilles brought up his spear to intercept his blade, forcing him to keep on his opponent's front.

"Not bad," the Greek hero grinned. "Judging from your Lancer's rather persistent attempts to hit my heel, I assume that you know my identity."

Siegfried scowled at another advantage lost, the tides of battle claiming another crucial piece of information. Still, at the very least, it meant he could greet his opponent with honor. "Achilles, son of Peleus and Thetis, Hero of the Trojan War. I greet you as an honorable foe."

The Rider nodded. "And I you, Siegfried the Dragon Slayer. Though if I may ask, how the hell did you guys figure out who I was? I mean, I'm good, but not good enough that you'd figure anything out just from our brief skirmish. You didn't even get to see my invincibility in action then."

"Archer recognized you," Siegfried revealed, seeing little harm in answering the query, especially as he sensed a familiar presence at the left edge of the battlefield. "He knew you in life."

"The one Saber and Missy killed? He knew me?" Achilles' brow furrowed. "And he also could hurt me. But I didn't know that many other demigods in life, unless you count… but Missy would have mentioned if she'd seen a centaur."

"It was Chiron," Siegfried explained, subtly inching back to make a break to the left. "He took a reduction in his parameters to avoid being too easy to identify."

"Ha! That's just like him! Always three steps ahead!" Achilles laughed, before a strange melancholy took him over. "And he's dead. Because Saber and Missy ganged up on him. Huh."

Siegfried raised an eyebrow, unbalanced by the sudden aura of grief overtaking the gleeful warrior. "Are you alright?"

"Fine, fine. Just… would have preferred if he'd gone down one on one against someone, honor and all. But this is war, can't blame Missy for doing what she needed to survive. Hell, I'm not sure _I_ could have taken him alone," he admitted, a soft sigh escaping his lips. A moment later, he shook his head and brought his spear up in a ready stance. "But what can be done? We've still got a war to fight and if you and I are going at it, we'll probably be here awhile. Unless I care to get serious, I mean."

Well, wasn't that disconcerting. The Black Faction's plan of putting him against Achilles had been reliant on their immunities canceling each other out, requiring them to aim for each other's weak spots, hopefully giving him enough time to find and empower Saber of Blue. But if Rider of Red had a trump card that was capable of bypassing the Armor of Fafnir, then the entire strategy was in danger of collapse.

But then, why hadn't he used it? True, he had attacked with his chariot before, but surely he could simply resummon it now? Vlad was quite thoroughly distracted by Karna at the moment. Why hadn't he fought seriously, either now or back during their skirmish in the forest? If he was truly as powerful as he believed, and given his identity that was likely an understatement if anything, why had he not unleashed that power to claim victory for his faction?

Because, just as Archer had once told him, victory alone was not the point for the centaur's former student. He wanted a true battle, a fight that could press even one of his tremendous talent, the rush of knowing that his life was on the line and a single slip in his hard-earned skills would spell his doom. It was a sensation the Dragon Slayer Knight had not known for a long time after he felled Fafnir, only recovering it when he'd encountered Lancer of Red and Saber of Blue.

Siegfried may have had the skills to keep up with the demigod, but without divine blood or a weapon of similar caliber, he could not grant the Greek Hero the duel he desired. But he did know someone who could. Someone he'd already planned to set against him. And if he played his cards right, the warrior before him might even thank him.

He raised his hand politely for a ceasefire. Achilles tilted his head in response. "Something up? You're not giving up already, are you?"

"Not at all," the Saber of Black assured his opponent. "I was merely wondering if you might wish to face a more challenging opponent than myself."

The Rider of Red cocked an eyebrow, reasonably confused by the sudden change of direction, but too curious to leave it be either. "How much more challenging are we talking?"

Siegfried smiled, utter admiration emanating from his normally stoic face. "The highest of caliber."

* * *

 _ **FATEFATEFATEFATE**_

"Well, that did a whole lotta nothing," Mordred deadpanned.

Atalanta scowled from atop the now parked automobile, her gaze glaring daggers at the dark patch of sky where her patrons' arrows had been wiped out so thoroughly by the enemy's ace. Lancer of Black was truly as fearsome as they'd been led to believe.

"I mean, don't get me wrong, that was freakin' _awesome_ ," Saber of Red continued, exiting the vehicle. "No one's supposed to survive that many arrows coming down at once…" she trailed off, then "…Except father, I guess. Only father could have possibly escaped it unscathed under normal circumstances. And me, of course. But I mean, seriously? What the hell were those things and where were they keeping them all?"

"Lancer of Black," Atalanta provided. "According to the Mage's Association's intelligence, Vlad the Third is capable of summoning an unlimited number of stakes in his homeland."

"Right," Saber's Master droned as he shifted over to the driver's seat. "Well, in the meantime, we've got to keep the priest's plan on track. Saber, you hit the homunculi from their right flank. Archer, you circle around and hit them from their left. That should keep the pincer from breaking down entirely. In the meantime, I'll head back to the outskirts."

"What?" Saber protested. "You're not going to stay and watch me fight!?"

Shishigou sighed and thrust out his finger to the battlefield. At that moment, a column of homunculi and skeleton warriors were vaporized by a massive blast of pink _prana_ from the Hanging Gardens, only to be followed by a burst of solar energy and a bombardment of stakes that slaughtered even more.

"Okay, fair point. You are rather fragile," Saber conceded. She huffed and called up her sword in a flash of crimson sparks. "Fine, but you're missing quite the spectacle. When I crush father, it will be a battle they'll sing songs about, a whole new chapter of my legend to be added to the throne!"

Shishigou smirked, not unkindly, at his Servant. "I'll be rooting for you. Though, if you see Emiya…"

"Yeah, yeah. I'll spare a minute to finish off your boogieman, don't worry."

"Great," he replied. "You alright with this plan, Archer?"

Atalanta shook her head, hopping down from the roof. "No, removing yourself from the battlefield will allow us to fight without concern for your safety. It is the wisest strategic choice. Though, I would prefer to accompany Saber for protection."

The young knight rolled her eyes. "I can't spend every battle bailing you out, Archer. Father is here somewhere, and I _will_ face him!"

Atalanta sighed and turned to Shishigou. Despite her general distaste for mages and her irritation at the necromancer's manipulation in particular, she was confident that they at least had their mutual concern for his adolescent Servant's wellbeing in common. And though he was doubtless privy to more details on the matter than she was, Saber had let slip enough that the huntress was also confident that her relationship with this 'father' of hers was not a positive figure in her life. And the last thing anyone let an innocent child do was confront an abusive parent alone. She had more than enough experience doing that as an adult, and it started a treacherous road that ended with her as a lion.

Unfortunately, Shishigou merely shrugged at her concerned gaze. "Don't worry, she can take care of herself."

Saber scoffed, obviously interpreting the comment differently than her master and Archer. "I'll take your word for it. Just try not to die yet, bowman. Between you and the witch, I'd rather face you as my final opponent for the Grail."

An odd sentiment it may have been to an outsider, but to a Servant, whose only purpose in the world was to fight and die for their chance at the Grail, there was no higher declaration of fellowship than to be desired as a final foe. It warmed Atalanta's heart that this child sought her as that final threshold. How exactly she would handle such a situation should it arise (she couldn't hurt Saber obviously, she was a child, but she also had to claim the Grail to make sure all children were loved…) was a matter for another time.

For now, she had a job to do, dashing off to circle around to the left side of the battlefield to do it, Saber charging straight in on the right as her Master retreated in the car. If Saber tracked down Saber of Periwinkle first, then all she could do was have faith in her skills. But if she found her first, she would show her the errors of unkindness to one's progeny. If Saber had killed her in life, then it should be a manageable fight, if not an easy one.

And if not, well, any proper huntress knew to always aim for their prey's weak spot. And no matter how powerful the Servant, they all relied on a Master.

* * *

 _ **FATEFATEFATEFATE**_

"You do realize that you are taking an immense and _completely unnecessary_ risk, do you not, Master? You are putting yourself, and therefore _all of us_ , in danger of being snuffed out all at once. If you die, then I die, and if I die, everything we've done up until now will have been for naught."

"Of course I know the risks," Shirou said, gazing over the side of the Hanging Gardens, frowning at the rampant carnage below. Homunculi and golems slaughtered their dragon tooth warriors in droves, hundreds of them perishing in turn as their twisted remains of flesh and stone were strewn across the battlefield. Servants clashed like titans stomping through the negligible masses of mortal men, scores of combatants obliterated just as byproducts of the Lancers' clash, let alone the legions annihilated by the emerald maelstrom carving into the head of the Red Faction's advance.

It brought back… uncomfortable memories of his days of rebellion, with only the two armies artificial makeup preventing it from equaling that hell.

Nevertheless, it was exactly for that reason that he had to test himself against it.

"Uh, really now," Semiramis huffed, coming to stand beside him overlooking the slaughter below, though she was completely unaffected by it. "You are a master who has complete control over a Servant. So why are you trying to risk your life by entering the battlefield yourself?"

Because he had to know. He had to know if he had been forgiven.

"If my plan goes against the will of God, then I am guaranteed to be struck down on the battlefield immediately. There would be no avoiding it, even for beings such as us," he explained. "If it were to play out like that, then I would solemnly accept my fate. It would mean that God did not forgive me for my failures, in this life and my last."

His white-haired master, slain at his feet, crimson blood soaking through the snow. The Greater Grail, the device through which true salvation could be achieved, lifted into the skies by the German helicopters, Darnic sneering down upon all Fuyuki.

Himself, crucified and dying, his brothers and sisters of rebellion fallen and burning around him. The Shogun's forces jeering and mocking his broken body and comrades. His spirit succumbing, his hoarse mouth roaring with shameful curses and hatred.

The Lord took all into his loving arms, but could he be forgiven? Could such a constant failure find heaven for all through his good intentions instead of hell?

And if he had, could... did that mean that his plan… yes…

His serene smile returned to his face, refreshed with indomitable conviction. He whirled on Semiramis, the empress letting out a short gasp of surprise for some reason. "If everything ends up going perfectly however, I can continue. Because I will know then that God has sanctioned my actions. I want to know that I was correct, that the conclusion I came to all those years ago is just. My wish is for the Grail to love all and to heal all. Once I know that God approves, only then can I be sure. Nothing will stand in my way."

For a few seconds, Semiramis had a legitimate expression of shock on her face. At least before she sighed and put on a demure smile. "What you are saying is that you are recklessly heading toward death just to find out if your wish is just. I can't comprehend that."

Shirou cringed, a bit embarrassed by how worked up he had gotten over such a simple explanation. His partner wasn't one to care about whether anything she did was just or not, only that it was what she wanted to do. "Figured as much."

"But if you are not at least given the chance, then you will not be able to move forward, will you?" she concluded, a bit of eagerness taking over her face. "Then I suppose I am left with no choice. Fight to your heart's content and survive this Grail War."

"I thank you," Shirou smiled, raising his new sheathed weapon before him. "With this _Miike Tenta Mitsuyo_ that Caster forged for me, I shall fear no Noble Phantasm. I do not intend to die."

Assassin smirked, the both of them observing one of the Servants of Black rising into the sky on some sort of strange Griffon. "Leave the protection of the Hanging Gardens to me. I'll deal with this pink-haired little girl and continue to provide fire support."

"Excellent," Shirou declared. "I'll take Caster with me then."

Semiramis' smile suddenly soured. "Are you sure that's wise, master?"

"I believe so. If I need to make a quick escape, his Noble Phantasm will be quite useful."

"A quick escape… perhaps you should stick to the edges of the fighting. That will make it easier should it be required."

"Oh? Are you sure? He actually suggested going to where it was thickest."

"Yes. I thought as much."

* * *

 _ **FATEFATEFATEFATE**_

There was a common saying that the Grail had seen fit to inscribe in her mind every time she was summoned. 'No plan survives contact with the players.'

In life, she'd certainly seen dozens of situations confirming that truth, whether it was something as innocent as Tristin and Percival buying the wrong wine for Gawain's birthday banquet or as serious as her fiendish sister sneaking past all of Merlin's vaunted enchantments to steal her sperm on the _one night_ she had a penis. She'd experienced repeat establishments of the proverb's validity during both her previous tenures as a Servant, though with opposite results for the two wars. While her plan to relive her tenure as king had been derailed by Angra Mainyu controlling the Grail from the beginning, the strategy to have her face Gilgamesh at Ryuudou Temple being upset by Assassin had ultimately worked out for the best, with her destroying the corrupted Grail and Shirou defeating the sickening tyrant.

Now, gazing out upon the carnage of the Red and Black Factions' clash, it seemed fate had smiled on them again. After all, what need was there for elaborate deceptions when they could just walk around the occupied enemy Servants and free the homunculi still in the castle right from under the distracted Masters' noses?

Though, not all of their company was able to observe the proceedings so clinically.

"They're… dying," Sieg murmured, the four of them standing atop a hilltop on the southern flank of the battle, the elevation providing a perfect view of the raging carnage below, hundreds of homunculi already splattered across the meadow, with more crumbling by the second. "Can we do anything to help them?"

Shirou came forward and placed a firm hand on the boy's shoulder. "Not the ones in the field. But the ones at the castle, we can help them. We can free them. But we can't be delayed."

Sieg's fists clenched in impotent fury, but he nodded. Saber's heart went out to the artificial child. Even if he had weathered the horrors within Assassin of Black's world, to behold war was never an easy sight, especially when those one cared for were on the battlefield. She'd sent the Knights of the Round Table out to conflict more times than she could count, and even if she'd done it without hesitation, as the perfect king would, she still hoped fervently that her friends would make it back alive. That experience allowed her a clear mind as she gazed upon the slaughter between the two factions, Shirou and Rin likewise seemingly unaffected. They'd both gone through the Fifth Holy Grail War and Shirou had been desensitized to carnage long before that.

Still, while it had not come to pass, his willingness to suddenly put the Yggdmillennia Masters in danger was still in the back of Saber's mind. While she herself had no issue with the matter, war was never a truly bloodless affair, no matter anyone's best intentions, the fact that Shirou had suddenly advocated for the tactic, combined with his blunt, some would say ruthless, counsel to their young ally caused her some concern. It was quite similar to what Archer might have done, and though she herself had assured Rin that Shirou was far from becoming his alternate self, it was a distressing parallel.

But for now, they could not pay much heed to hurdles that might have been. The Red Faction's floating fortress was getting closer to Millennia Citadel every moment, and whatever attack it launched would not discriminate between the Black Faction and their unwilling assistants. They needed to get in and free Sieg's kin immediately.

Unfortunately, they met their first roadblock as soon as they reached the base of the hill, Saber drawing her blade as she moved in front of the others. Despite that however, she could not hide the faint smile that flickered over her face. Sieg made no such attempt to disguise his own such grin.

"Sir Siegfried," he cheered.

The Dragonslayer returned the young homunculus' joy, the stoic man's face lighting up as soon as he saw him. "Hello again, little one. Despite the circumstances, it is good to see you again." He glanced about the rest of the Blue Faction, his eyes landing on Saber herself. "And to see that you have found such fine allies in your quest."

"Have you come to continue our duel, Saber of Black?" Arturia challenged, her invisible blade ready. "I saw Lancer of Red on the other side of the battlefield, but if you are really so eager that you cannot wait, I will gladly accommodate."

"Oho, she does have spirit. I can see why you think so highly of her."

Saber's eyes flickered to the new voice, Shirou moving to cover her side against the newcomer. He strode towards them with a casual barring, his easy smirk reminding her of Cu Chulainn, though the Mediterranean style of his armor let her know that this green-haired man was not another Irish Lancer. Still, anyone who'd made their way to the Throne would not act so casual in the middle of a warzone without good reason, and Siegfried's watchful eye only confirmed that this warrior was not to be taken lightly.

"But where are my manners? Rider of Red, at your service, Saber of Periwinkle. And friends," the spearman greeted, offering them all a short bow.

Rin raised an eyebrow, her face momentarily paling as she glanced between the other factions' Servants. "Why are the two of you approaching us together?"

Saber's grip on her sword tightened, Shirou summoning Kanshou and Bakuya into his hands. If the other factions had decided to form a temporary truce to deal with their interloping existence, then they really would be at an utter disadvantage.

Fortunately, Rider of Red merely chuckled at their concern. "No cause for alarm. Saber of Black here just promised that you lot would be able to give me a better fight than he would."

Shirou's eyes narrowed with obvious consternation. "And for that, you made a truce with him?"

"Oh, gods no," Rider replied. "He's just going to give you back whatever fantastically powerful Noble Phantasm of yours he has so you'll be at full power. And then I'll fight both of you."

Saber could hardly believe her ears. Such a proposal, to willingly empower and ally an opposing force against one's self, was inexcusably reckless. How powerful, or battle-hungry, was this Servant that they could believe that this plot was in any way a sound plan?

She turned to Siegfried. "Your Masters have agreed to allow you to return it? Why?"

Siegfried cringed. "Rider has a powerful Noble Phantasm that makes harming him… difficult, unless one has certain properties. Such as those possessed by your sword. As for returning your scabbard… well, let's just consider it a necessary payment for dealing with him. One that will be of great value against so skilled a warrior."

Saber narrowed her eyes at the cheekily whistling man. For Siegfried to believe that she would need Avalon, and for his Masters to be willing to return it to her at all… how dangerous was this Servant?

"And you will not interfere in the process of returning my scabbard?"

Rider of Red shrugged. "I'm here to get the best fight I can as a hero. But if it makes you feel better, I swear on the name of my father, my mother, and… my teacher… that I won't attack you until your Noble Phantasm is returned to you. Nor will I try to attack your allies while they're undefended. It'd kinda defeat the purpose of me waiting here for a fight if I killed the generous person making it possible."

Saber could sense no lie in his tone, but it still seemed far too good to be true. _'Rin? What are your orders?'_

" _If the Black Faction really is willing to give us back Avalon to deal with this guy, they must have taken one hell of a blow. Or this guy really is that dangerous. Regardless, I'm certain that Siegfried doesn't have it in him to pull off a deception like this, even if he was under orders. And if this is a way to get Avalon back, then we need to take it."_

" _We can't stay still though,"_ Shirou pointed out. _"If we linger, then the rest of the other factions will be drawn to the battle. And even if Rider of Red and Siegfried won't attack us, I doubt the other Servants will be as accommodating. We'll need to go on ahead, Saber. You handle this."_

' _Are you sure?'_ Saber inquired worriedly.

Rin nodded. _"If worst comes to worst, I can just summon you with a Command Seal. We'll be fine. Hopefully."_

' _Very well. If you're sure. I'll finish this up as soon as I can and come join you.'_

Rin nodded. _"Good luck, Saber."_

"I accept your generous offer," Arturia spoke aloud, her companions rushing towards the castle behind her. "I look forward to battling alongside you once again, Saber of Black."

Siegfried smiled. "And I you, Saber of Blue."

"Blue?" Rider of Red remarked. "I thought you guys were Peri—"

"We're the Blue Faction!" Rin shouted back, somehow heard over the roar of the nearby battle.

Rider glanced towards the masters' retreating forms, raising an eyebrow. After a moment though, he merely shrugged. "Huh. Neat. Guess the priest was misinformed."

Siegfried stepped forward. "Saber, if you would? Our efforts to discover how to extract it proved ineffective."

Saber grinned. "Of course."

She strode forward, raising her hands. Immediately, a soft golden glow began to emanate from the small slip of bare chest, overtaking even its normal sapphire shine, a gentle warmth seeping through the King of Knights' very being. Her scabbard was returning to her, a mercy repaid, a kindness and honor put forward. The Everdistant Utopia was a place of tranquility and peace, a place where she could never be harmed and where her impossible ideal had some sense of reality. To have it given back to her, under such conditions, even if in service to a larger strategy, lent a smile to her face.

Unfortunately, just as the scabbard was halfway out of the Dragon Slayer, the shadow of the flying fortress fell over them all.

* * *

 _ **FATEFATEFATEFATE**_

If someone had told Semiramis that she would one day meet a man she would willingly strike up an equal alliance with and have no intention of betraying that alliance… well, she would have told that person that all her partnerships were so genuine and invite them to a banquet as any gracious empress would. Just as she would weep when that person passed from a sudden fever, her best physicians' efforts too little to stop the wicked illness from claiming the poor soul's life.

And yet, here she was, seated upon her throne within her Hanging Gardens, her domain's mystical defenses easily keeping that vexing Rider of Black at bay, hundreds of flying skeletons hounding the pink-haired girl, worrying not about the scratches the wretch might be leaving on _her_ magnificent fortress, but about that foolish master of hers that had jumped down to the battlefield. Really, these religious types and their gods. She was the daughter of a god and she didn't recklessly throw herself into danger to see if the divine agreed with her or not. She was the queen! Whatever she desired; she'd bring about.

And yet, instead of mocking him for his idiocy as she should have, she found it strangely charming, his earnestness. It helped that he was not a complete fool, taking on the contracts and Command Seals of the rest of the Red Faction before he left, but to counter that wise move he also brought Caster along for 'protection'. As if that simpering fop would be any use in battle. Really, he should have known better. After all, she still remembered his first words to her after he'd summoned her.

" _O Queen of Assyria, in this Great Holy Grail War, I aim not for victory or defeat but for another goal. Will you aid me?"_

She'd been so confounded by his intentions, so utterly free of selfishness, that she'd considered just killing him and finding herself a new puppet to be her master. And yet, whether out of gratitude for seeking her out for her skills and her power instead of her beauty, or the sheer novelty of another Servant acting as a master, she'd remained loyal to him, working with her idealistic little saint to bring about the salvation of mankind. She didn't even think such a silly little fantasy was possible, but if anyone could pull it off it would have to be him.

That is, if he didn't get himself pointlessly slaughtered seeking divine approval. Really, between that pesky Ruler closing in on the battlefield, Lancer of Black who could kill him with a thought, and the other Servants who were beyond his comfortable range at the best of times, it was sheer lunacy for him to be out there. And with that new crest only just integrated into his body, who knew when his body would decide that it did not want to dodge a lethal stake or move him into a decapitating sword strike?

Thus, she found herself overlooking the entire battlefield, keeping track of the southern flank as her master and Caster skirted about for enemies to fight. And where she happened upon a quite interesting discussion.

She didn't know what Rider was thinking, just standing there while two enemy Servants discussed empowering each other and then allying against him. That child may have had few equals as a warrior, but his juvenile battle lust would see him dead faster than that famous heel of his. And while normally Semiramis wouldn't be concerned about a fool running to their death, she'd given many a push along the way, his death would leave their faction with only Lancer as a trump card. Hardly anything to snuff one's nose at, but as empress, she would not part with such a significant asset.

Normally, she'd prove her status as an Assassin and annihilate the Tohsaka girl and her human allies (was that a homunculus in their group? How quaint.). But her master had given her strict orders to leave that girl unharmed until he got a chance to negotiate with her. Even knowing the tramp was most likely the Kaleidoscope's disciple, his sentimentality over his failure to save this world's Tohsakas demanded he at least speak with her before ordering her death. Unfortunately, her own respect for him left her hesitant to unleash her Noble Phantasm upon the girl, despite the fact that her Servant's current actions would have at least cost her a Command Seal to defend in time.

However, that also meant another target was within reach. While that glowing Noble Phantasm was in transit from Saber of Black to Saber of Periwinkle, both sword-wielding Servants were at their most vulnerable. And though their class was famous for its Magic Resistance, there was no defensive power in existence that could that negate the Rank EX magic of her Hanging Gardens.

With a flick of her wrist, the eight stone tablets surrounding her fortress aligned, each one surging with pink _prana_ , enough to annihilate a village on their own. Together, even the mightiest Servant would crumble. Rider of Black panicked and took evasive maneuvers on her hippogriff, but she needn't have bothered. The coming bombardment was not meant for her.

* * *

 _ **FATEFATEFATEFATE**_

Siegfried's eyes widened the moment he felt the buildup of magical energy above them. He, Saber, and Rider of Red whirled around, the Red Faction's flying fortress focusing eight glowing stone tablets on them.

"Oh no, don't you dare, Assassin!" Achilles roared. "You will not deny me this battle!"

Unfortunately, despite the Greek hero's outrage, they were still in the firing line and Avalon was only halfway out. While the Rider of Red could easily flee, if the Sabers moved, they'd lose what progress they had made removing the scabbard. Not a problem in and off itself, they could easily just start again, but if the enemy's stronghold remained in the sky, they could just continue to rain down bombardment after bombardment on the pair, never giving them the time to complete the transaction. A tiring exercise that was sure to leave them vulnerable to alternative attacks.

Both of them had powerful magic resistance, but just by getting a general feel of the gargantuan amount of energy building within the tablets, he didn't think it would do any good. Perhaps if they both held onto the scabbard, they could use its healing to survive? No, that wouldn't protect their heads, and a blast that large would strike their entire bodies—

Saber of Blue withdrew her hands from the sheath, its golden glow instantly disappearing. Her posture shifted into enough of a battle stance to assume she'd drawn her invisible sword and stomped towards the fortress.

"An Assassin, huh," she glared at the sky. "I must admit, I thought I was facing a Caster. After all, if someone tests my patience with demonic tentacle monsters or enormous beams of magical energy, it's usually the war's Caster Servant. But I suppose I've already put one devilish Servant of the Shadows to rest."

The gargantuan pink energy blast erupted from the fortress; a cascade of _prana_ powerful enough to level a mountain. Saber raised her blade, the swirling winds parting to reveal the greatest of holy swords in all its glory, a golden glow already building within its steel.

"One more shouldn't be too much trouble," she proclaimed. " **Excalibur!** "

She swung her blade downward and an arc of shining light surged out of its edge, smashing into the oncoming bombardment in a clash of pink and gold. The energies warred with each other, the colossal forces struggling for dominance, the latter slowly pushing the former back inch by inch.

And yet, while Siegfried recognized Assassin of Red's attack (how had an Assassin conjured something like this?) as merely concentrated mystical power, looking upon the King of Knights' assault… it conjured a strange warmth within him, images long-buried flashing past his eyes. A miller he'd happened upon on a road from Brunswick, who'd asked him to help replace a lost wheel on his cart. A milkmaid from Bamburg who had come to him in tears, pleading for him to slay the bandits who'd murdered her husband. And finally, the one he recalled perfectly, the little homunculus, the boy whose life he'd saved without asking, who he'd given his heart.

For all his life had left him unfulfilled, he helped many people. And gazing upon Saber's sword, upon the pure, shining prayer of hope and exaltation, reminded him more than ever that it was a life of honor. A life well worth having lived, and worth continuing to live, for as long as he had.

How wondrous was this Great Holy Grail War.

* * *

 _ **FATEFATEFATEFATE**_

"The oppressors must not be allowed to live! I will not be bound to your… chains…"

Fiore might have thought she'd won the grail already when Berserker of Red finally stopped ranting, if not for the fact that she'd beheld the same beauty that brought about the miracle of his silence. She, him, the nearby homunculi, even Roche and Avicebron gazed up at the blazing golden light, entranced by its radiant shine.

A warm rush of hope trickled through the young mage's body, flashes of herself upright with a smiling Archer and Caules at her side, the three of them examining graphs and runes, unraveling the deepest secrets of magecraft. And as impossible as it was, the logical side of her instantly recognized that she was probably imagining it, she thought she might have felt the nerves of her legs twitch.

For the first time since Archer's death, since she'd been set forth on the impossible task of bringing Berserker of Red to heel, she wasn't puzzled by the two Command Seals left on her hand. They were there because she was a master, a mage. And just like any good mage, she would find a way to prevail, not matter the obstacle.

"Incredible," Roche muttered. "Teacher, I didn't think I'd ever see anything more amazing than golems, but…"

"There is no need for shame, master," Avicebron assured him, his masked face locked on the pillar of light. "It is God's work. A thing of rare beauty."

Well, if even the cold golem maker was entranced, it must truly have been a marvel. Whatever the light was, it purged the doubt and fear within Fiore's heart, filling her with blissful peace.

But it also provided her with an opportunity.

She wheeled herself over to where Spartacus was crucified in the middle of the staging yard, the only way they could hope to restrain him. The mad spirit of rebellion's eyes were locked on to the brilliant shine, his smile for once not insane, but at peace. And most importantly for her purposes, letting her get a word in edgewise.

"What do you see?" she inquired softly.

"Freedom," he murmured, like an incantation, the beginnings of tears welling in his eyes. "Freedom for all to live as they please, without need to fear any oppressor."

Fiore nodded, processing the Servant's new state. Getting screamed at by someone for an entire day generally gave you an idea of what a person was about, but seeing a different side of that identity, a side she could communicate with, at least for a short time, would hopefully allow her to finally turn the Heroic Spirit to her side.

"That's a beautiful dream," she said. "If you win the grail, will that be your wish?"

The Berserker scoffed. "Of course. But more important is my sacred duty to destroy the oppressors, to crush those who would selfishly stomp over others to claim the grail's power." His eyes narrowed upon her, madness seeping back into his expression. "Like you, who have bound my existence in this world to your _prana_. An intolerable enslavement."

"Then would you like me to cut it off?" Fiore asked. When the madman raised an eyebrow at her query, she continued. "Well? If you don't want to be reliant on me, I won't force you to fight for me."

"What devilish deception is this, oppressor?"

Fiore shook her head. "No trick. If you don't want to be bound to me, I will cut off our connection right now. You'll be free, but it won't be long before you fade from this world. Unless you wish to accept my help. If we work together, not as an oppressor and a slave, but as partners, allies in the name of freedom."

"Allies against the oppressors?" Spartacus mused, but his glare was locked on the back of her hand, specifically her Command Seals. "And yet you would still keep a leash to chain me."

"We both know these wouldn't do a thing to influence you, even if I had all three," Fiore pointed out. "So, what's your choice? Stand alone out of pride and let the oppression of Gaea rip you from this world, or accept my help and fight for the freedom of all people everywhere, so they might one day live out your beautiful dream?"

The Heroic Spirit of Madness churned within his chains, pulling at his shackles in a desperate attempt to escape his bindings, but Caster's work held firm. At last, the great gladiator sneered. "Very well, mage. I will accept your support. But if you attempt to control me, to chain me, I shall crush like any other oppressor!"

"Fair enough."

Fiore quickly completed the contract and nodded to Caster, who released their new ally. Spartacus snatched up his oversized gladius and, for a brief moment, the young mage feared she'd judged him wrong, that this volatile bomb of rebellion would cleave her in two before she could take another breath, having seen her strategy from the first.

But, no. She was dealing with a Servant of Madness, and with her magical energy powering him, he stampeded out the castle door, roaring "OPPRESSORS!" into the night.

"Well, I must admit, I did not believe you would be able to manage it," Avicebron noted. "I did not think you had such talent for base manipulation."

In truth, Fiore hadn't known if she'd had it in herself. She hadn't lied to her new Servant, but she had most definitely skewed the truth in her favor. That was still deception, and though it was the most standard of a mage's tricks, she'd never been all too fond of it. That must not have meant she was bad at it, even if the act left a rancid taste in her mouth.

Still, as she gazed back upon the titanic pillar of golden light, as that warmth like a spring day flowed through her, she was reminded just what she fought for, just what she was striving for. And while she was not at peace… she found that she could live with her choice.

"Caster, if I may ask, what do you see when you at it?"

"Eden," the golem maker replied ominously. "As God intended it."

* * *

 _ **FATEFATEFATEFATE**_

Well, if he hadn't already been sure of Saber of Blue's identity before, he was now. There was not a hero in the throne who could look upon that radiant golden shine and not realize that it was the Sword of Promised Victory they had the honor to behold. Its prayer of exaltation, of meaning to their constant striving was a miraculous balm to whatever troubles might have pained their souls.

True, Karna did not have any of said troubles, he was quite satisfied with his lot in life and his current existence. But it was an undeniable pleasure to gaze upon the light and be filled with images of a paradise he knew could never have been. Arjuna and the Pandavas, himself and the Kauravas, their parents, commoner, royal, and divine, all seated around a single table partaking in a simple meal, laughing mirthfully like the family they were, all grudges, wars, and betrayal forgotten.

It was a lovely fantasy. He would have to thank the King of Knights for allowing him to indulge in it.

He turned away the titanic clash of light, Assassin's gargantuan ray of _prana_ slowly but surely being pushed back by the light of the greatest holy sword. Whatever the outcome of that clash, he had his own battle to complete of equal importance.

Fortunately, his opponent had been just as entranced by the golden shine as he had been, the ruthless King of Romania donning a blissful smile in place of his previous bloodthirsty smirk.

"A wondrous sight, is it not?" Karna stated, drawing the Impaler from his stupor. "I am curious. What does a ruthless monarch, who butchers his enemies so thoroughly that their darkest nightmares could never hope to compare, wish for, in his heart of hearts?"

A barrage of black stakes answered him, the demigod dancing away into the sky.

"For starters, your head on a platter, Lancer of Red!" the king roared, his hungry grin returned with a vengeance. "Your honor in rousing me from my daydream does you credit, but it was far from the wisest of strategies!"

Perhaps. But blindsiding his opponent like that was hardly necessary. Though it was curious that his master was so easily able to handle his rather extensive magical energy requirements, Karna was confident that he would be able to continue fighting for quite some time, with more than enough strength to eventually overwhelm the King of Romania and his country.

More intriguing was the truth beneath the ferocious monarch's chastisement, revealed to him by his Discernment of the Poor. The fury behind the taunt belied a noble desire, a dream of a nation no longer in need of the protection of the Great Vlad the Impaler, a land that could simply be ruled by the noble spirit that was Vlad Tepes the III. It was such an innocent and simple desire, but Karna estimated that like his own fantasy, it was one that the other Lancer had long since known to be impossible, even before his death.

The time when they were men who could have led simple lives had long past, if it had ever come to begin with. Now and forever, they were heroes, elevated to legend, and bestowed the privilege, curse, and duty to stand amidst the currents of time, titans of humanity paving the way for the countless future masses to live, treasures they'd never get to meet, but oh so beautiful all the same.

And yet, through the Holy Grail War, they were able to see the future they'd fought for, to see the evolution of humanity they'd believed in. Truly, no matter how bloody, this conflict was the highest of honors. He could only hope all the others were enjoying the battle as much as he was, eagerly dodging the relentless bombardment of stakes streaking for his skull.

* * *

 _ **FATEFATEFATEFATE**_

Semiramis was very much _not_ enjoying her current situation.

The King of Knights?! Saber of Periwinkle was the King of Knights?! How? Why? Since when was King Arthur a woman?

"Oooo," Rider of Black murmured on the monitor. "Pretty."

Never had Semiramis been more thankful for such an asinine outburst. The sheer spike of annoyance that flared within her at Rider's inane comment allowed her to collect herself from her panic and start conceiving a course of action.

Hanging Gardens' bombardment was being pushed back, no surprise, the most famous of holy swords was hardly going to be a weak Noble Phantasm. Its shining golden light bathed nearly the entire battlefield in its glow, homunculi and even several Servants pausing in their battles for a brief moment to bask in its radiance. Even deep within her throne room, Semiramis could feel the tingle of its warmth, a vision of her and her master simply lying back in a garden together…

And it was sickening! A prayer for hope? For simple peace? Preposterous! She was an empress, a monarch with divine blood running through her veins! She would not be placated with mere simple satisfaction! Her desires were the height of luxury, encompassing the entire world! She would have all she desired, from her conquest, her domain, and… her master.

Regardless, while Excalibur was forcing her energy blast back, it was not overwhelming her completely. Given the titanic power of her Gardens and the fact that she had a good few centuries over her opponents, that really spoke more to the King of Knights' strength than her own. And though she had some measure of respect for another female ruler, the world could not serve two monarchs. She would close the gap and crush this interloper.

' _Master, a Command Seal if you would?'_

* * *

 _ **FATEFATEFATEFATE**_

Arturia grinned as her power surged through her, Excalibur's light pushing back her foe's assault bit by bit, slowly creeping back into the heavens. She was surprised that an Assassin of all classes was able to conjure this much magical power, but it would not be enough. While what she had told Rin before about not being able to completely destroy the floating fortress in one shot was true, it was still a _fortress_. And her Noble Phantasm was made to destroy them, meaning that with the stronghold as its target, her blade's already considerable power was augmented even further.

Destroy it completely? Unlikely. But if she hit the right place, she could certainly knock it out of the sky.

Unfortunately, despite the clear superiority of her Noble Phantasm, her slow but consistent advance suddenly halted, their clashing energy beams suddenly churning at a standstill. Then, the flow began to push back, the pink _prana_ blast grinding down on Excalibur, swiftly forcing it back to ground.

Arturia grimaced, quickly discerning what had occurred. Such a sudden increase in power could only have meant that Assassin of Red's master had used a Command Seal to boost her assault. If a master and Servant's wills were one, it was entirely plausible that the seal could raise the fortress' assault to surpass Excalibur.

Of course, that meant that she and Rin could do the same to counter this new complication. It was not preferable, they only had three after all, but death was even less of an option, and since she was bit too preoccupied to remove Avalon from Siegfried, she didn't see any other—

" **Balmung!** "

A sapphire pillar blazed into the sky, side-by-side with Excalibur's blast and crashed into the pink surge, emerald sparks crackling off the collision as a hurricane roared across the battlefield. Arturia glanced to her side, Siegfried's greatsword thrust up high, bleeding power into the heavens. He flashed her a small smile.

The King of Knights smirked and nodded back, redoubling her own efforts. The twin columns of gold and blue rammed through Assassin of Red's blast of _prana_ , streaking upward to cleave the flying fortress out of the sky.

* * *

 _ **FATEFATEFATEFATE**_

"The light of exaltation! The jubilant, radiant rays of a dawn that could never come again!" Shakespeare raved, his eyes sparkling under the rays of the dazzling Noble Phantasms. "Hiding under the cloak of periwinkle was none other than the noblest champion and ruler, the forger of utopia, betrayed by blood and those nearer still! The King of Knights stands against us on this wondrous field of battle!"

He leaned in towards Shirou and coughed, a twitch of nervousness mixing in with his boundless excitement. "I'm afraid to say this master, but it seems quite the obstacle has appeared in our path. And if the Empress is unable to protect the gardens…"

Then they were finished. Without the Hanging Gardens, they had no way of both housing the original masters of Red as _prana_ batteries or transporting the Greater Grail from Trifas. Not to mention that Shirou very much did not enjoy the idea of Semiramis dying, his heart twitching strangely at the thought in a manner he could not recall it ever doing before.

But most importantly, his dream would be gone. As the warmth of Excalibur's light flowed over him, he saw it. The fulfillment of his quest, the redemption of humanity. No more would there be suffering, or evil, or hatred. Just peace and love. A world where no one cried. For sixty years he had toiled for it and he could not allow anyone to stand in his way now, not when he was so close!

He spread his arms wide, the red markings of his Command Seals projecting into the air once more, now seventeen instead of eighteen. If the one he had provided to boost his Assassin was not enough, then he would simply have to try an alternate approach.

* * *

 _ **FATEFATEFATEFATE**_

Woah. Achilles had been pissed at Assassin for… well, being Assassin, but with what had sprouted from her actions, he was actually wondering if he might have to thank the Queen of Assyria in the near future. You know, if she survived the double Noble Phantasm blasting she'd provoked on herself.

Seriously, Saber of Black was setting him up to fight the King of Knights? That was awesome! And then the both of them unleashing their swords' full power to obliterate Semiramis' bombardment? It was like Zeus himself had sought to strike them down with a thunderbolt and they'd spat it right back in his face! Incredible! No wonder Lancer tried to call dibs on the two of them. They hadn't even gotten that sheath back into Saber of Periwinkle yet and he was already raring for their fight!

He maybe should have interfered, stabbed one of them before they blew away the Hanging Gardens… but the Empress had brought this upon herself by attacking them when he'd made a warrior's bargain to face them in honorable combat. Besides, attacking them from behind would defeat the purpose of making that agreement in the first place. It was unbefitting of a true hero.

And thanks to that light from the King of Knights' blade, he remembered all too well what happened when he did not acquit himself as a hero should. All his mistakes flashed through his mind: Hector, Penthesilea, Patroclus, countless others. His wrath, his pride, his petulant, childish rage. The light gave him a glimpse of what might have been if he'd kept to his honor, his friends alive and hearty, his enemies given respectful burials. It showed him a glimpse of how spectacularly he'd failed. He wondered what Chiron would have said to him in that moment, maybe a chastisement about letting himself get caught up in morality in the middle of a war, but apparently, he was already dead. And he hadn't even gotten to see him. He'd have to ask Missy about exactly how she and Saber had beaten him—

" _Rider!"_ The priest's voice echoed through his head. _"By my Command Seal, use your shield to defend the Hanging Gardens!"_

"What?!" Achilles squawked, but already he was consumed by a flash of white light.

When his sight returned less than a moment later, he was back on the rim of the Hanging Gardens. The wind rushing through his hair was no longer the brisk breeze from their advance on Trifas, but a thunderous gale spawned from the approaching onslaught of legendary light, Assassin's obelisks already retreating as their crumbling attack finally failed completely. The raging intertwined pillars of blue and gold roared upwards towards the fortress, the Hero of the Trojan War all that stood in their path to annihilation.

Of course, with the Command Seal's magic spawning his shield on his arm, he was more than enough.

" **Akhilleus Kosmos!** "

The divine bronze glowed with the fire of the Olympian forge that had crafted it, a gigantic emerald energy dome expanding out from its moderate form. The combined attack of the two Sabers slammed into the shield, the radiant glow of promised victory and the phantasmal power that felled a dragon crashing into the barrier with all their legendary might, strength enough to surely reduce entire cities to ashes.

But Achilles' defense was far beyond that. His shield was a world unto itself, enclosed by an azure sky forged by Hephaestus himself, cosmic energies fused throughout the metal to bring forth the alternate dimension as his ultimate Noble Phantasm. Against it, even his exalted foes could do not but flounder.

Within a few seconds, it was over, the sky night once more as the glow of the knights' onslaught faded from the heavens. The Rider of Red recalled his shield back into its compact form, the emerald energy dissipating until it was only bronze once more, not even scratched by the luminous assault it had just warded off.

"Okay, _what just happened?!_ " Achilles roared, both physically and mentally. "Priest? Priest?! Damn you! Assassin! I know you can hear me! Answer me, Assassin, or so help me I'll tear this barren pigsty of yours out of the sky myself!"

A mystical buzz of static crackled in his eardrums before the equally unpleasant sound of the empress' voice replaced it. _"Calm down, Rider. You have my thanks for saving my gardens, but don't think that gives you the right to insult me."_

"Insult you?" Achilles snarled. "How did _your_ master just use a Command Seal on me?!"

" _A question you can rest assured will be answered once the Greater Grail is in our hands. For now, however, we are still in the middle of a battle. I'll need you to remain here for now in case our enemies decide to put their differences aside again."_

"What? I'm not going to—" another crackle of silence informed him that she'd severed whatever magic had allowed her to speak in his mind, prompting him to let loose a howl of frustration. However he had done so, the priest's Command Seal had been to defend the Hanging Gardens, which meant until they no longer needed defending, Achilles was trapped up in the sky. The glorious duel he'd been promised with the Sabers, stolen right out from under him just like that! It was infuriating!

"Hey! Hey, you!" a cheerful call drew his vision to some pink-haired girl riding… some birdhorse? What had Chiron called those things in training... hippogriffs, right! He was doing loop-d-loops on a hippogriff as his lance tore through Assassin's hordes of flying skeletons. "You okay? You look like you're having a rough time!"

Achilles sighed bitterly. "That's one way of putting it. I just had the most amazing fight stolen right out from under me, and I'm pretty sure there's some crazy underhand mage politics going on inside my faction."

"Oh, ouch. That doesn't sound fun," the warrior who could only have been Rider of Black replied sympathetically before flashing a bright smile as his mount tore apart more boned familiars. "Anything I can do to help?"

The Greek Hero tilted his head to the side. "Well, now that I think about it…" his spear flashed by into his left hand. "Can you try to stay alive for a bit? I can't leave this place, so you're probably the best fight I'm going to get any time soon."

The other Rider paled. "Well, I mean, that wasn't exactly what I meant. Besides you don't want to fight _me_ , I'm a terrible fight! I'm weak, really weak, like super weak, aw crud!"

To Achilles' irritation, his opposite number's distress was not due to him. Instead, a hexagonal prism of pink glyphs flashed into existence around him. Lightning crackled around him and his hippogriff, the flying knight shrieking in agony as the electricity coursed through him.

At last, the sparks faded, and the glyphs disappeared. The hippogriff evaporated into blue dust and Rider of Black plummeted from the sky.

"Aw, come on!"

* * *

 _ **FATEFATEFATEFATE**_

She saw the light. She could never have mistaken it. That glorious, heavenly shine, the prayer of exaltation, the warmth of hope that could never be realized seeping through her soul. Even if she hadn't seen it a thousand times in life, no hero could possibly have mistaken that glow for anything but the sword of the King of Knights.

And that meant that was where Mordred needed to be.

Screw the right flank. Screw the priest's plan. Father was on the left flank, to the south, and Assassin had already tried to cheat her out of her battle. She had failed, of course, father would never have been beaten by such a base witch, but there was no telling if father might be ganged up on and be killed before she had a chance to get her duel. It would take the entirety of the other Servants to do it, father was perfect and wonderful after all, but it might happen now that the others knew his identity. No fool would hesitate to destroy King Arthur in war if given the chance.

Mordred would not allow that. Father's head was hers and hers alone! And she'd kill anyone who tried to interfere otherwise.

* * *

 _ **FATEFATEFATEFATE**_

King Arthur. Saber of Periwinkle was King Arthur. Which meant Saber of Red was Mordred.

Everything suddenly made perfect sense in Atalanta's mind. The perfect king? There was no such thing. Obviously the king of legend was merely a tyrant, a dictator who exercised expert propaganda to craft a narrative of their own exaltation, a story so expertly falsified that even the Throne of Heroes accepted it as fact.

But it was a lie. One only needed to spend a moment with her child to see the falsification of her virtue, the scars of her cruelty. Whatever peace was glimpsed in the golden light, whatever vision of children loved unconditionally she'd seen in Excalibur's warm glow, it meant nothing if wielded by a wicked cretin who would never see it through.

Thus, she narrowed her archer's eyes at the three figures dashing away from Saber of Black (didn't Mordred say she'd killed him?) and the false paragon, half a mile away but to her, they might as well have been standing right next to her. Since there was only one woman among them, her target was obvious. And with no Servants nearby to protect them, this would be a simple matter.

She drew back her bow and let her arrow fly.

* * *

 _ **FATEFATEFATEFATE**_

He never really understood why he had his sixth sense. Rin had once mentioned that all mages had it to some extent, but his seemed more pronounced than others', like how he had sensed Rider's sneak attack back at Homurahara before her. Perhaps it was just his more extreme brushes with death than most, perhaps it had something to do with his origin, a sword always ready to be drawn from its sheath. Whatever the case, he knew when they were in danger, and Rin specifically was in danger now.

His danger sense pointed him in a general direction and his _prana_ sense quickly ascertained that Archer of Red was the most notable magical energy signature in that area. He quickly reinforced his eyes and saw her drawing back her bowstring.

She would kill Rin with that shot. Rider had been powered by Shinji and he'd still barely blocked her chain. He'd seen firsthand that he couldn't deflect Atalanta's fire, she was too fast, her rate of fire too swift. Against her, there was nothing he could do.

At least, nothing he could do as the Shirou of now.

His will flew down his arm, just as it had all those years ago in Fuyuki. A power just beyond mere magecraft but just shy of True Magic course through his muscles as one of his Black Command Seals began to glow, and the aria Sieg had told him of finally flowed past his lips.

"I order this body! **Heaven's Evolution!** "

* * *

 **If you wish to see more of this story, vote for it to be updated next month in the poll on my profile.**

 **An extra huge thank you to my patrons: ArcherMcMuffin, Gregg Tracton, Keith Traction, Annaya Chan, Nora Okonus, Paula mandel, KefkaesqueXIII, Christian Howard, and SanyaBane.**

 **Thank you for Reading! I hope you enjoy what comes next!**

 **Go Forth and Conquer!**


	17. Chapter 16

**Same deal as last chapter.**

 **The November Poll Chapter!**

 **Beta-ed by Draconic**

* * *

It was a scene out of her memories. For a moment, she wasn't in the heartland of Romania in an alternate dimension, but back at her high school in Fuyuki, Lancer thrusting Gae Bolg at her back, only for Kanshou to rise and deflect the crimson spear's tip. Just like then, she only caught the barest hint of the oncoming lethal assault, an arrow streaking for her head faster than the speed of sound. But then an aria filled her ears and a flash of light blinded her vision, stopping her cold.

When she could see again a moment later, a red mantle, one she'd seen in both her dreams and nightmares, flapped stoically in the wind, the tall figure it covered hovering protectively in front of her.

"Shirou," she couldn't help but murmur. "Are you alright?"

Her boyfriend, his visage and stature now an exact copy of his possible future self, nodded. "I'm fine. How are you? Is the _prana_ strain manageable?"

She focused on her magic circuits, tracking the magical energy flowing through them. As a mage, her power was top notch, but with the strain from her contract with Shirou now amplified by his new form, she was effectively supplying energy for two Servants. Sieg had been built to be a _prana_ battery and he could only maintain Siegfried's form for a minute. Maybe Shirou and Archer's enhanced compatibility would cheapen the cost somewhat, but not by much. They needed a way to provide more power to him directly.

Rin dug out a pair of jewels from her satchel and tossed them to her boyfriend, his reflexes easily allowing him to snatch them out of the air. He raised a concerned eyebrow.

"Those are just in case," she assured him. Shirou may have been hopeless in all but the basics of magecraft, but he was technically her apprentice. She could hardly have called herself a teacher if she hadn't made sure he could at least draw out the power she stored in her jewels (even if he couldn't put his own in, or ignite it, or make a shield or… nevermind). "It isn't an easy cost, but I can pay it."

"Just not for long," Shirou finished. Kanshou stretched into an arrow as Archer's bow manifested into the aspiring Hero of Justice's opposite hand. "I'll finish this quickly then. You two go on ahead. Sieg."

The homunculus stepped forward. "Yes, Mr. Emiya?"

"Try to keep her on track," Shirou smirked in a decidedly Archer-like way. "She hides it better than I do, but she can't help trying to save people any more than I can."

Despite the situation, Rin couldn't help the scowling pout that crossed her features. "Just because you look like him doesn't mean you need to sass like him. Try not to die, you idiot."

"Love you too."

Rin sighed and snatched Sieg by the wrist, the two of them taking off for Millennia Citadel. A round of explosions sounded behind them, arrows flying like artillery shells as debris rained all around.

"That Servant he's become," Sieg inquired worriedly. "Is it strong enough to defeat Archer of Red?"

"Strong enough? Who knows," Rin said. "But versatile enough? Easily. He can handle himself. We need to do our part and get to the castle—"

"Urgh…"

Her eyes darted to the source of the pained groaning, a bloody female homunculus, lying broken in the dirt. Just from a cursory glance, her wounds looked worse than they probably were. Granted, with all the Servants going wild on the battlefield, just being alive was an impressive feat in and of itself.

Rin's mind warred against itself for a moment. Like Shirou had said, she did like being able to save people who were in danger as well, though not nearly to such psychological extremes as he did. There was a reason she'd stopped her duel with him at the school the moment she'd heard an innocent scream. But she was also more than capable of being pragmatic if the situation required it, which a war certainly did. So, her brain weighed the pros and cons.

It was the right thing to do.

She was an enemy soldier.

They needed a guide through the castle defenses. Sieg's knowledge could quite likely be outdated.

She would not help them. She was literally programmed to be loyal.

So had Sieg, and he had turned against them.

"Hey! Are you alright?"

And just like that, her complex deduction was rendered moot as Sieg dashed over to his wounded kin, a simple desire to help bringing him to a knee at her side. A slight smile flickered across Rin's face and she rushed over to the pair, placing her glowing hands over the girl and beginning to heal her.

Soon, the homunculus girl's red eyes creaked open, her vision focusing in on Sieg.

"You?" she muttered, forcing herself up. "What are you doing here?"

"I couldn't just abandon you all," Sieg said. "Please, let us heal you."

"Us?" the girl replied, finally recognizing Rin's presence. "Master of Blue."

"If you're going to take a swing at me, I recommend waiting a few seconds," Rin snarked, nearly finished with the healing process.

"You've joined them." The homunculus surmised, making no hostile move. "Why? You had escaped. Why join another faction? Thrown into battle and expended, that is the life of a homunculus. You were able to leave that fate behind. Why risk returning?"

"Because we may have been born to fight in this war, but that doesn't mean we were born to die," Sieg declared, the iron glimmers of what might have been passion filling his voice. "I have freedom now. I think everyone else should have it too. Astolfo, Siegfried, Ruler, the Blue Faction, they've all helped me, and I want to pay all their kindness forward. I beg you, help us make that happen."

"Very well."

Sieg's stoic and serious expression chipped away. "Huh?"

"I will help you," the female homunculus repeated matter-of-factly. "I am well aware of the castle's defenses and will guide you through them. Our kin within will assist us, but they will not attack the Masters of Black."

"Don't worry, I can handle that part," Rin assured her. It wasn't too surprising that the homunculi were unwilling to fight their creators directly, she wouldn't put it past Gordes to put not harming their masters as the primary piece of their programming, at least in the combat soldiers. Honestly, she was surprised by how easy it was to get this one to change sides, but she supposed not one really liked being used as disposable puppets.

The female homunculus raised her arm and pointed past them. "Will you be able to handle this part too?"

This… oh, shit.

Rin and Sieg both leapt to their feet, the sizable chunk of _prana_ they hadn't noticed due to the rampant magical energy flying about the battlefield coming clearly into view, wrapped in a wedding dress and crackling with green sparks.

Berserker of Black bore down on them, her great mace swinging at her side as emerald electricity whipped over her body.

* * *

 _ **FATEFATEFATEFATE**_

Shirou was well aware of Archer's pain. The Wrought Iron Hero had gone through literal hell and found there was no heaven on the other side, only a mirror that showed that he had simply become one of the demons along the way, a Hero of Justice. Ever since their confrontation in Unlimited Blade Works, he had devoted himself to succeeding where his alternate self had… succeeded. But differently, in a manner that wouldn't leave him only a brutal murderer. He would not allow his devotion to his dream to break him so thoroughly that he became a Counter Guardian.

That being said… being a Servant felt amazing!

For years, he'd struggled to improve his body to its maximum potential, pushing even beyond that through his reinforcement magecraft, stretching his muscles near their breaking point, careful to never go too far yet always feeling too weak, too slow. Even when he'd unlocked the full potential of his Reality Marble, he'd a limitless number of options when he only needed one for each issue, his mind stretched to its limits searching through the depths of his memory to select just the right sword for the job. He'd never regret attempting to help anyone, but he feared he was slowly coming up against his own natural limitations, the simple constraint of being human.

But with Archer's form, all those limits were meaningless. He may not have been anywhere near the most powerful of Servants, but even the most mediocre of Heroic Spirits were far above the physical capabilities of any human and EMIYA was average for the most part. And most valuably, his Eye of the Mind skill was constantly evaluating the battlefield and every tool Shirou had at his disposable, including each individual weapon in the Reality Marble. Where once he would have had to sift through the endless arsenal and the titanic portion of average, nameless swords within it for the blade he needed, now the most suited weapon would be fished out from the depths of his inner world and thrust into the forefront of his mind, ready to bring him victory.

Still, he had to be careful. He couldn't allow himself to become careless with his bolstered capabilities. After all, despite his new power, his enemies were just as strong, and far more accustomed to wielding such strength.

His foe might have been momentarily stunned by his transformation, but it was not long before she resumed her attack. In a fraction of a second, dozens of arrows fired downrange, each shaft shimmering with a slight turquoise glow and packing enough power to demolish a house.

With the briefest of thoughts, he analyzed the incoming barrage's flight paths, not surprised to find that a sizable portion of them were not aimed at him. Obviously even with the unknown circumstances of his appearance, his opponent saw Saber, and therefore Rin, as the greater threat. Not exactly incorrect, but she was certainly underestimating what the Counter Guardian was capable of, even if she had perfectly good reason to be confident in her own skills.

Archer of Red, Atalanta, was far from the most powerful Servant he'd ever encountered. She may have traveled and fought with Heracles in life, but only her agility stood in the same realm as the greatest hero of Greece. Unfortunately, it was still two ranks higher than his own and when the both of them could mystically manifest arrows on their bows, that meant her rate of fire was significantly superior to his own.

At least, with a bow.

Deftly dodging the portion of the arrows launched his way, he drew back his bow, fletching the string with cheap, quick to manifest, arrows. In between eyeblinks, he launched his own rapid-fire counter barrage, his bolts streaking through the air and striking Atalanta's shafts in two, their superior power meaning little when he clipped them from behind, sending the remaining fragments far off target.

Whirling back to face her, he caught the huntress' scowl, his new eyes easily covering the mile-long distance between them. It would seem that his display had served its purpose. She knew she wouldn't be able to get to Rin without going through him first. Now it was just a matter of putting her down.

Once more, the Huntress of Arcadia notched and loosed a storm of arrows, each one packing enough power that they would have punched straight through Godhand, this time entirely focused on turning Shirou into a pincushion. The young mage noted that she had fired several bolts along the paths he might dodge, trapping him like prey cornered by a predator.

Fortunately, there were few things more dangerous than cornered prey. And Shirou had not only been dodging and deflecting during her last barrage.

Battles between Servants were incredible things. The blitz neck speed of any Heroic Spirit meant that many fights could end before some onlookers even realized they started. And when a fight occurred so quickly, even the barest fraction of a second mattered. And outside Unlimited Bladeworks, it took a few fractions to manifest his weapons.

They rose up from the dark of the night, a horde of swords soaring into the air like a flock of hawks, just as numerous as Atalanta's barrage. The blades collided with her arrows, a great crash echoing out from the sky as both waves shattered against each another. Shards of broken metal rained down from the clouds, only prevented from cutting him by his will summarily dismissing them to sapphire sparks.

The huntress' eyes widened in shock, but to her credit, she near-instantly had another set of arrows nocked and ready to fire, their turquoise glow far brighter than her past assaults. Unfortunately for her, using his swords to defend against her previous attack had given him time to trace a more potent Noble Phantasm on his bow. Atalanta must have deduced the immense danger she was in, likely due to her Aesthetics of the Last Spurt skill, because her formally calm face showed true panic for the first time in the battle, her shining arrows instantly firing off straight into the heavens. A fleeting instant later, Shirou's weapon was ready, its black sheen crackling with crimson energy as he stretched it into an arrow, ready to deliver the first, and quite possibly last, move of his counterattack.

" **Hrunting!** "

He released his string and the Hound of the Red Plains rocketed across the meadow, a sonic boom cracking out from its flight. Archer's modified version of the Bear of Geatland's bloodthirsty sword was an implacable arrow. It could be deflected, it could be dodged, but it could not be stopped. However its target attempted to escape, the pitch-black projectile would reorient itself midair to resume a lethal course. Unless it was destroyed or Shirou himself stopped aiming at the target, it would forever seek the death of the pursued, no matter how they fled.

But Atalanta did not flee. Defying all logic, the lion-eared huntress ran _towards_ the crimson engulfed arrow that was already upon her and leapt onto the shaft, even managing to loose a shot towards Shirou as she landed on the thin core.

Unlike at Bucharest, Shirou was easily able to track the arrow through the air, flicking his head to the side so it soared past his skull, but even then, he couldn't keep a small smile from his face. His plan accounted for the possibility that his opponent would find some way to survive Hrunting, Heroic Spirits were legends for a reason, but using Crossing Arcadia to jump onto the arrow was undoubtedly one of the more impressive applications of skill he'd seen. The one place Hrunting could not strike was itself, and as it spun like a listless compass needle in an attempt to get another lock on its target, the Hound of the Red Plains ended up chasing its own tail.

Shirou almost had the next stage of his plan ready to go, so he began flooding the arrow with _prana_ to explode the broken phantasm. But, just as the blade began to crack apart at the overload of magical energy, Atalanta abandoned her position of temporary safety and dashed forward. The false Iron Wrought Hero cocked an eyebrow in confusion before he caught the explosion of power descending from the heavens.

The arrows his opponent had shot into the sky before he'd fired Hrunting fell down with a vengeance, along with thousands upon thousands of new divine bolts sent by her patrons. Phoebus Catastrophe concentrated its wrath behind its wielder, the godly onslaught bombarding the Hound of the Red Plains until it shattered into dust. Perhaps it was only because he'd begun the detonation process but given the power to decimate an army had been concentrated onto a single target, he wondered if perhaps it would have destroyed his weapon anyway.

Regardless, his next shot was prepared and ready to fire, one that it would do Atalanta little good to jump on top of. The huntress was making to retreat back to range until her eyes widened at the sight of his new ammunition, one far less subtle than his previous shot.

" _I am the bone of my sword._ **Caladbolg!** "

The first line of his… of Archer's aria brought the Fake Spiral Sword to full capacity, the overload of _prana_ for the Broken Phantasm already flowing inside. This weapon was not meant to remain whole and become another stepping stone for the huntress, it was meant to unleash an explosion the likes of which had nearly killed Shirou back in the cemetery just from the shockwave. Of course, if he fired it straight at Atalanta, he himself would be caught in the gargantuan blast, and whatever psychological troubles he was undergoing, he had no desire to invite Rin's wrath by committing suicide.

So he fired behind the huntress, right into the final volley of her Noble Phantasm.

Needless to say, Atalanta was already running before he loosened the spiral sword, desperately trying to escape what was coming as air and space warped around his arrow. The Broken Phantasm struck the final bolts of Artemis and Apollo and reality ruptured around it. A great dome of fire and force exploded out from the point of impact, a radius of nearly a quarter-mile scorched to ash in the face of the denotation.

The Huntress of Arcadia's agility did her credit, she just barely raced her way out of the blast zone. The shockwave knocked her off her feet, but even then she managed to flip in midair to just barely land on her feet, panting hard from exertion.

Just in time for Shirou to appear at her side, Kanshou and Bakuya already sweeping towards her head.

There was something Shirou had learned from his many near-death experiences in the Holy Grail War, something that really should have been apparent from the first but had taken longer than it should have to sink in. Fighting Servants was a stupid idea. They were stronger, faster, and tougher than humans or most other spirits by several hundred orders of magnitudes, and even the supposed weakest of them had entire history lectures full of random powers or niche abilities that allowed them to survive or shrug off things that they really shouldn't be able to (Rin had informed him about Cú Chulainn's last-minute rescue when he'd had a _pierced heart_ ). Thus fighting them was not something a person could ever just jump in to, especially when they still needed to conserve _prana_ for battles afterward.

But as powerful as Heroic Spirits were, they were not invincible, at least if one was careful about it. Archer had defeated some when acting as a Counter Guardian. Rin had manhandled Medea once she'd made herself an opening. Even Shirou himself had defeated one in single combat, the strongest of them all in fact. And all those incidents had one thing in common. They'd gone in with a plan tailor-made to exploit the few weaknesses of their respective foes and they'd exploited the hell out of them. To defeat a Servant for sure took more than just mindlessly spamming swords, it took refusing to fight the enemy on their terms, striking them where they were weak instead of where they were strong.

Every move he'd made against Atalanta had been intended to kill. But in case she proved herself capable of surviving those strikes, they were also each only a small part of Shirou's plan to drive her closer. At long range, the huntress was a superior archer, and in the foliage she could no doubt disappear even from his skilled vision. But up close? She had only a bow and a rather pitiful endurance rank.

In contrast, Archer did not excel in any one parameter, but he was certainly versatile. And that meant his swords were more than ready for their task.

The Huntress of Arcadia scrambled backward, Tauropolos coming up to shield her as best it could. Kanshou and Bakuya slammed into the bow's shaft, the blades of black and white barely held back by the blessed weapon.

Shirou shot _prana_ into his favored swords and both blades suddenly erupted forward, a cascade of jagged metal elongating the weapons' lengths until they were proper longswords, named by his Reality Marble as Kanshou and Bakuya Overedge. The suddenly greater reach of the blades pushed over Tauropolos' guard and sliced a pair of bloody cuts along either side of her head, nearly lobbing her lion ears off. Only the huntress' desperate retreat allowed her to keep her head, but that was only a momentary boon. She had lost this fight. The only question was how much longer until she lost her life as well.

The false Iron Wrought Hero planned to make that interval as short as possible.

Not giving Atalanta time to catch herself and run away properly, he threw both his swords straight at her body, only the huntress' skills preventing her from being lobbed in two. But the crucial moment to dodge cost her time to put distance between them, and Shirou already had another pair of Kanshou and Bakuya in his hand and thrusting for her head.

Atalanta's eyes widened, terror overcoming the normally cool, certain huntress, even as she moved to duck away from his strike. Of course, what she didn't know was that such a maneuver would do her no good, only causing her to dance right into the path of the returning Overedge pair, drawn back toward their bonded pair. No matter what the Archer of Red did, she would be skewered.

At least, that had been the plan.

A black blur rushed into the fray from behind, batting the Overedge pair around Atalanta so that they were now headed for Shirou. He willed them away with a thought, but the blur then proceeded to intercede between him and Atalanta, catching Kanshou and Bakuya on a black sheath.

Shirou immediately realized what was going on and leapt back just as the new combatant proceeded to draw the sword held within that sheath and lash out at him in a single moment. A small sting above his left eye informed him he had not been completely successful, but he still had his head. Though, if the information he was receiving from his brief glimpse of the blade was correct, it may have suffered a heavier hit than he'd thought.

Especially since the figure before him, who'd just moved with easily Servant level speed and strength, whose left hand was now aglow with mystical light, was Shirou Kotomine.

"Priest?" Atalanta muttered, appearing just as shocked as Shirou was feeling. "How did you do that?"

"There will be time for an explanation later, Archer. Right now, we have a battle to win," Kotomine said succinctly. "Go assist Saber. I will handle this."

"Saber?" Atalanta's expression immediately fell into seriousness. "You _will_ explain this later, priest."

"Of course. You have my word."

Archer of Red nodded, and dashed away, never looking back even for a potshot. For whatever reason, she was dedicated to reaching Mordred as quickly as possible. Which at least meant Rin was likely safe for now. Freeing Shirou to worry about his own problem.

The priest lowered his still sheathed sword and flashed that kind smile that had brought such comfort at Sighisoara. In some ways, it still did, frighteningly enough.

"Now then, I must admit this is most unexpected, young man," Kotomine said conversationally. "I almost did not believe it when Assassin gave me the report of what had occurred in this area. To think those Black Command Seals of yours allow you to transform into this strange seventeenth Servant, Shirou Emiya."

Shirou's eyes narrowed, steel orbs locked onto the priest, the man's faith undoubtedly one of the many truths he'd told. But his blade had revealed that there had been at least one lie.

It was a Miike Tenta Mitsuyo, a first-rate blade if there ever was one, its iron scabbard imbued with the soul of its swordsmith. For most of its history, it was the favored blade of the celebrated one-eyed samurai Yagyu Jubei Mitsuyoshi, but it never attained enough of a legend to become a true Noble Phantasm. And yet, of all people, _William Shakespeare_ acting as Caster of Red (how the hell did he make that floating fortress?) had enchanted the blade into a Rank C weapon of legend, writing of its " _magnificently sharp_ " edge and how it had been stained by " _an ocean of blood_ " in life. Just the fact that it was a Japanese warrior's sword made into a Noble Phantasm by an English playwright would have made it one of the stranger entries in Unlimited Blade Works, but the scant section of its history describing its most recent wielder, not even a minute old, boosted it even higher. And far more troublesome.

"I think you mean _eighteenth_ Servant, don't you," the false Wrought Iron Hero declared, discretely absorbing the _prana_ from Rin's gems. Whatever his time limit was, he couldn't risk running it out against an opponent like this. "Shirou Tokisada Amakusa."

* * *

 _ **FATEFATEFATEFATE**_

In the depths of Millennia Citadel, within a room specially made to keep a master safe while their Servant battled outside, Caules frowned. Before him was a mystical screen, provided by Casters' familiars both on and off the battlefield, that allowed him to keep track of what was happening around Berserker, the enemies she'd tracked down crouching stalwartly in front of her.

He hadn't expected them to be the first ones to find Tohsaka, even less to be lucky enough to come across her without her Servant or Emiya for protection. But the other one who was with her, the homunculus that Siegfried had given his heart to, he was even more of a surprise. Why was he here? Ruler had exempted him from the war, he had no reason to take part. Unless…

Yes, that might be it. If the injured female homunculus they'd been tending to was any indication, the artificial life form had come back for the rest of his kin. That shouldn't have been possible. The basic self-preservation protocols Uncle Gordes installed in them (not enough to prevent them from being ordered to fight to the death, but enough so they didn't unnecessarily lose resources), should have overridden anything even resembling such dangerous altruism. But then again, they also should have prevented him from seeking freedom in the first place. It was quite clear that in this homunculus' case, what they'd programmed him to do didn't really matter.

But if the snippets Berserker had caught of the conversation were true, he had chosen to join the Blue Faction of his own volition. And if that was true, he was fair game.

"Berserker, take the homunculus Rider and Saber helped before. Caster can use him for his Noble Phantasm," Caules commanded, leaving the fact that he wouldn't then use Fiore unsaid. "Siegfried hasn't reported Rider of Red's death yet, so keep Tohsaka alive if you can. But if she becomes a danger, do what you have to."

" _Urgh,"_ Frankenstein grunted mentally.

Caules nodded. "Right. Be safe."

"Things are going well, I take it?"

The young mage turned to the chamber's entrance, just in time to see his sister roll in and close the door. A genuine smile bloomed across Caules' face. "As good as can be expected. Since that homunculus has rejoined the war we might be able to give Avicebron his reactor after all. If we can stall the Red Faction until then, they'll have a very nasty golem surprise to deal with."

"That's good, I guess," Fiore replied sullenly, rolling up to his side. She swiped her hand, and another screen appeared next to his, this one displaying a howling behemoth rampaging through skeleton warriors and homunculi, both armies getting tossed about like ragdolls by the mountain of muscle.

Caules' eyes widened. "You contracted him? That's fantastic! How'd you get him to agree to serve you?"

"Serve is too strong a term," his sister explained. "I really just convinced him that having me as a _prana_ battery, or rather our homunculi, would benefit him more than not. If I try to give him anything resembling an order, he'll rebel immediately. I might be able to aim him a bit by telling him about a target, but I'm not in command."

"Hey, that's better than Darnic and Caster were able to get out of him before," Caules pointed out. "You convincing him to side with us just shows what a great mage you are?"

Fiore didn't look so sure, an unsettled frown crossing her face as her hands tightened in her lap. "Yes, an excellent mage. Who tricks and deceives and manipulates to get what they want… everyone else be damned."

Okay, that was a matter for concern. Caules had never had any illusions about the ruthless, often malicious nature of the mage world, and he knew Fiore hadn't either. But while he had mostly resigned himself to the fact that he'd need to be quite underhanded until he left the mystical world, his sister had in contrast never been at ease with the more murderous aspects of their heritage, despite her love of researching the mysteries of the world. She'd learned to put on a good front to keep their peers from realizing her "weakness", but that was all it was, a front. He'd never for a second believed that she'd ever be able to go through with anything that Darnic, Celenike, or even Uncle Gordes might, no matter how much grief she might have felt from Archer's death.

And yet, from what she'd said, she apparently had, or at least saw herself as having done so. In the long run, that might have been even worse on her conscience. Still, if it helped her survive this war, Caules wasn't going to protest, even if he'd do his best to make her feel better about it.

"Wait," Fiore suddenly spoke up, narrowing her eyes at the tactical display. She pointed at an abnormally large _prana_ signature closing in on Frankenstein. "What's this? Shouldn't all the Red Servants be accounted for?"

"They should," Caules noted. "Archer of Red's energy is the closest we know of, and the Servant readings we're getting near her are probably Saber of Red. I'll see if I can pull up a visual."

He did just that. Both he and his sister gasped.

"What?" Caules explained. "But if she's there, who's with Archer of Red?" He flicked through Caster's familiars until he found one with a lock on that area, spotting the cat-eared bowman engaged in lightning-fast combat with… "Who the hell is that guy in red?!"

"He's fighting Archer of Red. We can worry about him later! Right now we need to support Frankenstein," Fiore declared, putting her hand to her ear. "Berserker! Ah! I'm not… ergh! I know where an oppressor is! I'm sending you the coordinates now! Yes, I understand, down with the oppressors."

Caules cringed, praying that Spartacus would choose to heed his sister's advice and get there in time. Because as much as he had faith in Frankenstein, against the foe that was coming, she was simply outgunned, more so than even a Command Seal could bridge. And if she fell, there would be nothing to stop the incoming Servant from slaughtering both Tohsaka and the homunculus. And then there would be nothing to offer Darnic and Caster as a substitute reactor core.

It seemed all their prayers would have to be on the Servants of Madness. They were their only hope.

" _AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!_ "

Caules and Fiore both did a double-take at the new figure on screen.

… unless Rider literally fell out of the sky.

…

Holy Grail Wars. They had warned him _anything_ could happen.

* * *

 _ **FATEFATEFATEFATE**_

Mordred was irritated at the universe. Every time she came close to coming face-to-face with father, it seemed like some asinine situation would come up that would delay their long-awaited reunion. At this point, she had half a mind to just blow everything off and streak straight for Excalibur's light.

But after Assassin of Black had amplified her tunnel vision in that matter back in its hellscape, she'd made sure to keep a solid view of her periphery. And what should she see on her way to the southern flank of the battlefield but some Servant in a wedding dress bearing down on, of all people, the eastern woman and homunculus from Bucharest.

Normally, she would have brushed past them and continued on her way to recompense. As pleased as she was that Sieg had indeed survived Jack the Ripper's domain, he'd made it this far on his own and if he'd decided to throw himself back into his former master's reach for whatever reason, that was his business to handle. She wasn't going to go out of her way to save him.

But father had referred to the eastern woman as his master during the short time Mordred had seen them together. And if the bridal Servant of Black killed her, that meant father was not long for this world. Even if she managed to get to him in time and confronted him, he wouldn't have the energy to provide her with a battle of their vaunted statures as the King of Knights and the only hero to ever surpass him.

Which meant she had to make _another fucking detour._ Argh! Maybe she could save the bitch mage and then threaten her to use a Command Seal and just bring father to her already.

Mordred tore a sharp curve past the rear of the Black Faction lines, carving any straggling homunculi foolish enough to challenge her into pieces as she rocketed across the meadow. The Servant of Black (Berserker, if she remembered Archer's report of her and Rider's earlier skirmish right) whirled around its clunky mace, previously raised at the cowering mortals, to block Clarent's oncoming slash. Even still, the bridal freak didn't have near enough strength to match blows with a Knight of Camelot and the sheer force of the attack sent her skidding back through the dirt.

"Saber of Red!" Sieg exclaimed, awed filling his voice for obvious reasons.

"Oh shit," the woman muttered, also warranted given that they were enemies.

"Grgh!" Berserker of Black growled, which was probably also the correct response to her magnanimous presence. Maybe. Eh, whatever.

Mordred thrust her sword towards the enemy Servant, posing dramatically as chaos reined across the battlefield behind her. "Listen up, Berserker of Black! I've got a score to settle with this woman's Servant, so you're not touching her until I've put the King of Knights in his place! But if you're so eager for a fight, I'll gladly give you a good time. Who knows? You might even make a decent—"

"AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH—oomph!"

A mass of pink hair and gaudy armor suddenly plummeted from the sky and crashed into the dirt, kicking up a minor dust cloud from the impact.

"—warm-up." Mordred finished, cocking an eyebrow behind her helmet. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Rider of Black," Sieg murmured. "Are you okay?"

"Ugh… yeah. I'm good," the new Servant groaned. "Getting blasted by purple lightning and falling from the sky. All in a day's work for a Paladin of Charlemagne… just let me make sure my ribs are still there—wait a minute!"

The previously exhausted paladin leapt to his feet, his finger pointing accusingly at the young homunculus. "What are _you_ doing here?! You're supposed to be away from here, living your own life, picking up chicks!"

"I'm sorry," Sieg replied, shame in his eyes. "I know I'm wasting the life you gave me but I—what do chickens have to do with this?"

"He means women," Mordred explained to the naïve boy, nonchalantly deflecting a mace strike from Berserker of Black.

Rider of Black meanwhile turned on father's master. "And you! You guys were supposed to take him away from the war!"

"We tried!" the girl protested. "He came back!"

"I did indeed come back. This is not their fault," Sieg confirmed. "I joined them of my own volition."

"What?!" Mordred howled, her fury resulting in her kick punting Berserker of Black nearly half a mile. Not she noticed as she stomped up to the wretched homunculus. "You are a part of father's faction?!"

"Well… I wasn't when we last met."

"So, you joined even after witnessing the full extent of my wonderous skill? You went to him even after I pardoned your life and would have gladly accepted you as my retainer?" Mordred raged, her sword crackling with crimson electricity. "Do you think it wise to insult a king, bastard!"

Her steel flashed out towards the boy's chest, father's master throwing a jewel in its path. The gem expanded into a floating emerald screen, magecraft undoubtedly. It only took Mordred a second to slash the mystical shield to pieces, but that second was enough for the girl and another female homunculus to tackle Sieg out of the path of her blade.

She could have easily followed up and finished the job, but Rider of Black suddenly dashed in front of them, hefting his cumbersome lance as a makeshift shield.

"Get him out of here!" the Servant of the Mount roared. "I didn't save him just so he could die here for no good reason!"

"So, you'll die in his place? Oh, that's fine by me!" Mordred cackled. "I've killed three of you Black Faction bastards already, I'm up for making it four!"

"Bring it on you jerk—wait, three?" Rider suddenly noted, impressive given how he was clearly being pushed back in their bladelock. He put one of his sets of fingers across the flat of his lance, counting off. "Archer, Assassin… who else did you kill? They're the only ones that are dead."

"And your Saber," Mordred grinned. "Don't bother trying to deceive me. I saw him fall to my Noble Phantasm with my own eyes."

"Um, actually—"

"Not now, Sieg!" Father's master commanded, lugging the boy back to his feet as both they and the female homunculus dashed towards Millennia Citadel.

Rider meanwhile just raised an eyebrow at Mordred. "No, he didn't."

"Yes, he did!" the Knight of Treachery shouted, shoving the pink-haired Servant into the dirt. "Are you calling me a liar?!"

"He is literally right over there on the southern flank," Rider said, pointing in said direction. "He and Saber of Blue just did a really cool combined Noble Phantasm attack. You had to have seen it."

"What I saw!" Mordred yelled, punctuating the cry with a stab of her sword, Rider barely rolling away from the strike. "Was father unleashing the full majesty of his Noble Phantasm against that putrid witch! Nothing else!"

Rider parried her follow-up swing and scrambled back to his feet, panting hard as he kept up his floundering guard against her merciless assault. "Excalibur is pretty bright, I guess. No wonder you couldn't see that Saber was there… you're Saber of Blue's son. But that means you're Mordred!"

Their blades caught one another in a bladelock once more, Mordred sneering through the gap in their weapons. "Congratulations. Did you just figure that out now? Any who calls themselves a hero should be able to recognize my royal presence just as they can my father's."

Surprisingly, the goofy Servant of the Mount's mouth curled into a stalwart scowl. "Huh, I figured the Knight of Treachery would be some diabolical bastard, an evil mastermind type, you know. But you, you're just some punk kid whining because no one thinks you're anywhere near as great as you seem to think you are."

…

…

…

Mordred's body promptly erupted with scarlet lightning, Rider of Black smashing into the ground. Unlike before however, she gave him no chance to recover, Clarent falling like a hellish meteor shower. She struck his meager lance again and again, the ornate armament barely shielding him as crimson electricity spark over its defenses and burned black scars across his face.

"Master!" the fool panicked. "Command Seal! Command Seal!"

No Command Seal would save him. No matter how much strength he gained or how far he fled, she would hunt him down. She was not some flashy punk. She was not some mindless witch's tool. It was no coincidence that the dog had only really started barking when he'd figured out her True Name. Maybe he had met the King of Knights in person, maybe he only knew them through legend, but he'd made his judgment of her and _he was wrong!_

She had defeated Saber of Black. She was a worthy successor to the King of Knights, the only one to ever surpass him. If she had to pound this yapping dog into paste to silence his barking, then so be it. Her sword would rust on his blood.

"Seriously, master! I know you like seeing me in pain, but I'm really going to die if you don't—" Rider of Black's eyes widened, catching something behind Mordred. "No, Berserker, wait! They're still too close!"

Mordred whirled around, bringing her blade up as a mechanical beast in a wedding dress launched itself through the air, a grating howl filling the air. Berserker of Black raised her mace high, the weapon now split open into four sections, a maelstrom of emerald electricity raging over its head.

The Servant of Madness fell upon the Knight of Treachery, the sparking mace erupting into a veritable tempest of green lightning as soon as it struck Clarent. While the force of the strike itself was nothing Mordred couldn't handle, the storm of electricity that rained down across the surrounding area was a bit more annoying, especially as all the energy that would have fried Rider flew through her instead.

But the pink-haired Servant had been worried for a reason, and that was made clear as the thunderous attack spiraled out from the Heroic Spirits. The bolts of electric energy rained down in a wider and wider radius, eventually engulfing even the fleeing Blue Faction in its fury. Father's master whirled around and thrust two more jewels into the air. The gems split into mystical shields, the screens shuddering under the hail of sparks, cracks splintering across their shining crust.

However, weak though it may have been, Berserker's onslaught was still a symptom of a Noble Phantasm. And no matter how skilled, little modern magecraft could stand up to the raw pervasive power of legend. The jeweled shield shattered like glass and a bolt of lightning streaked for the lithe woman's chest.

Only for Sieg to return the favor from before and shove her out of the way, the electric jolt ripping right through his shoulder. The homunculus tumbled into the dirt, the corner of his shirt singed to ash.

"No!" Rider of Black yelled, only for Mordred to deliver a solid kick to his chin, before shoving Berserker across the meadow.

Not that the Knight of Treachery was any less outraged. She had declared that _she_ would execute Sieg for the insult he had dealt her, a warrior's clash to at least honor his conviction. Now Berserker of Black had taken that from them both, infuriatingly having him perform her a service by saving father's master. She'd never thought much of honor or chivalry, but she would take great pleasure in avenging the homunculus by taking the Servant of Madness' head.

Shouldn't be too difficult anyway. The bridal mockery had already taken her best shot and it had barely singed her armor. Rider of Black was barely staggering off the ground, a nonthreat if there ever was one. Hell, father's master was already kneeling over him, her hands glowing magecraft. She might even figure out a way to save him so that Mordred could give him a proper warrior's death.

"You dare torment and murder the innocent! Oppressor! Feel the wrath of Spartacus!"

Oh, for the love of—Now what?!

Evidently, a hulking bondage nut with a rubbish short sword. Because apparently they were just letting anyone into the Throne of Heroes now.

Mordred raised Clarent and tanked the wild swing of the gladius. However, unlike with Berserker of Black's fruitless assault, the Knight of Treachery found herself staggering under the weight of this new attacker. The madman followed up his opening move with a flurry of wild and ferocious strikes, each blow falling like a battering ram in time with his maniac laughter. Despite putting all her strength into her defense, Mordred found herself being pushed back, her armor rattling with each successive clash.

"Hahahahaha! See how you crumble oppressor!" the over-muscled lug howled. "See how your tyrant shatters like glass in the face of glorious liberation!"

Mordred growled under the strain, her fury blocking out the oaf's inane ramblings. Anger rushed through her mind, soon followed by magical energy as her Prana Burst took effect, crimson lightning crackling across her form. In the brief moment when her foe's weapon pulled back between strikes, she charged forward and rammed her blade into her enemy's, her increased power rattling them both this time.

Pushing through the minute pain, she seized the opening and ducked under his raised sword. While her opponent might have had strength relevant to her own, he was sorely lacking in her prestigious speed. Clarent flicked over the brute's dull flesh, his muscles ripping open in dozens of lacerations as scarlet lightning surged across his body, leaving only dark burns in its wake.

In only an instant, the stampeding beast was brought to heel, immediately tumbling to his knees. Not one to give up the advantage, Mordred thrust her sword for his heart to finish the cretin for good.

Unfortunately, she was suddenly smacked in the back by what felt like a boulder, the familiar tingles of electricity confirming her attacker as she flew across the meadow. Still, the force was hardly sufficient to really hurt her, and she easily landed on her feet to face the resurgent Berserker of Black.

"Persistent, aren't you, little worm," Mordred snarled, the wedding dress wearing freak already charging again.

But the Knight of Treachery was in no more mood for games, the new guy might actually be a threat if she let him get back on his feet. Her hand snaked out and snatched the shaft of Berserker of Black's mace midswing, her superior strength easily halting the blow. In the blink of an eye, the freak's face went from determined rage to terrified surprise. And in the next…

Well, it didn't really matter what it was next. Clarent had already cleaved open her chest.

All at once, the emerald tempest ceased. As soon as Mordred released her grip on the mace, her vanquished foe crumpled into the dirt.

"And that makes four," the Knight of Treachery remarked, finding her eyes drawn to a few meager sparks sputtering from her corpse, a tangle of split wires exposed to the open air amidst the mangled flesh. "Huh. Not even a homunculus. Just patched up scrap."

"Oh?! You would flaunt your power over the oppressed!" The other brute cried, drawing Mordred' focus back. "Fool! The agony of oppression shall always be overcome, for it is the fuel of the absolute victory of REBELLION!"

The flesh where he'd been cut or burnt began to bubble and churn like boiling warts, the dull gray mass suddenly expanding until his legs began to resemble oversized donuts, propping him up like some comical bard caricature. Smaller, but no less repulsive, welts began to explode out from where her electricity had burned him, consuming his head as if he was enclosed in one of those comfy pillows some of the civilians in Bucharest had worn around their necks. Only revolting.

Fortunately, a hail of turquoise arrows peppered his side before he could charge, his flesh expanding ever farther from the points of impact.

"Saber!" Archer yelled, dashing to her side and frantically checking her over. "Are you alright? Are you hurt? Did any of them harm you? I'll rip out their throats!"

"What? Of course, I'm fine! Did you really think that any of these wretches could even scratch me?!" Mordred protested, pulling away from the bowman. Any further cries were stalled when more disturbing noises emanated out from the ever-growing tumor that was their current foe. "Of course then there's this disgusting meat balloon."

Archer's eyes narrowed, her previous motherly air evaporating like smoke. "Berserker. So, you've betrayed us. I should have shot you when I had the chance."

"Oh, so he's our lost Berserker?" Mordred nodded, everything finally falling into place. "Spartacus, right? Thought a fellow hero of rebellion would be… not this."

"He won't be anything soon enough," Archer growled, a quintet of arrows nocked on her bow. "We'll take him together."

"What? This is my fight! I don't need you to… to…"

Mordred's words petered out as her body suddenly went ramrod straight, a familiar, unforgettable _prana_ signature charging towards her location with all its majestic speed. The one she'd been waiting for.

Archer's eyebrows shot up, fear consuming her face, as it should against the approaching titan. "Sabe— Mordred, you don't have to face him alone—"

"Spartacus is yours," Mordred declared with stone-cold finality, whirling around to face her true target. "Interfere in this duel, and I'll kill you myself."

Her tone must have carried the true will of a king, because the huntress reluctantly let her pass without further comment, though the cackling blob of ever-growing flesh and muscle might have also been a factor. Regardless, Mordred marched forward to meet her destiny.

The Knight of Treachery barely had to wait a moment more before she was there. A royal, elegant blue battle gown covered by resplendent silver armor, glimmering more beautifully than the full moon could ever hope to be. Her flawless face was set in a stern, unwavering expression, befitting an unshakable, perfect king, Excalibur held ready before her, its blessed visage charitably shown to the world. Not that hiding it would provide any advantage. Mordred had memorized its length long ago, just as she had every aspect of her sovereign.

"King of Knights!" she roared, Clarent thrusting forward to point at her foe. "At last! I was beginning to worry death had made a coward out of you."

"Mordred." King Arthur said her name like an incantation, a myriad of emotions flickering through her sea-green eyes, more than the young knight had ever heard from the stalwart monarch, especially when addressing her.

But then the King of Camelot took a deep breath and all that emotion disappeared, the marble truth of the child of Uther Pendragon replaced and flawless once again. Excalibur's blade hummed with power as its heavenly glow rose for battle.

Under her helmet, Mordred grinned, a crimson tempest charging along Clarent's steel. This is what she had been waiting for. This duel was what she had earned, the battle that would display once and for all that she was the rightful successor to the King of Knights, the moment where she would prove once and for all that she was his worthy son, not some witch's spawn.

And yet, deep down in her heart, in a place she would never speak of to anyone, never acknowledge to herself… she felt a pang of misery that once more all she had been faced with was the King of Knights, not her father. For he would never acknowledge her as his son.

Deep down within her heart suddenly ignited in furious anger and with a feral scream of fury, she rocketed towards her destiny.

* * *

 **You know, writing this story has been really eye-opening. I've always believed there was no such thing as a truly 'weak' Servant and my research on Atalanta and Frankenstein for this chapter only reinforced that.**

 **Side note, is there a Servant that's just average? Like as Servants go, what's the everyman, grey suit-wearing salaryman of the bunch, not at the bottom of the barrel, but not going to be beating Arturia, Herc, or Gilgamesh any time soon.**

 **If you wish to see more of this story, vote for it to be updated next month in the poll on my profile.**

 **An extra huge thank you to my patrons: ArcherMcMuffin, Gregg Tracton, Keith Traction, Annaya Chan, Nora Okonus, Paula mandel, KefkaesqueXIII, Christian Howard, and SanyaBane.**

 **Thank you for Reading! I hope you enjoy what comes next!**

 **Go Forth and Conquer!**


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